Timmy Turner Sleeps With the Fishes
by DeliverUsFromEvie
Summary: Not all magical creatures are created equal. H.P. wants to level the playing field. Anti-Cosmo makes an unlikely alliance. Wanda's family history comes into question. And it all starts with a wedding...
1. Wedding Trashers

A/N: I'll preface this by saying that no characters added to the show past Season 7 Episode 33 will be present in this story. Yes, that is an oddly specific episode. You'll understand.

This story is rated T for...well, future prospects. Vague, I know. I've never posted a Rated T fanfic before. Actually, I haven't posted any fanfiction at all in over four years. How's everybody doing? Everything good? Good.

Furthermore, if I wrote this correctly, which I hope I did, you don't need to have seen The Godfather/any of its sequels for this fanfic to make sense. Lol. Although it's probably funnier if you have. This is not a parody. It's simply an homage.

...actually, I guess it could be both a parody and an homage. I don't know. What is a parody? What makes an homage? What is real? Who are we? Where are we going? ( _lifts laptop_ ) What is this?! ( _begins to slam_ _keyboard against head repeatedly while screaming_ )

Okay, I want everyone to calm down, and just, just...imagine a single trumpet, playing softly in the distance...

* * *

"I believe in Fairy World. Fairy World has made my fortune. Although, it's not an easy job...full of puny people, and insufferable morons who don't know how to read rule books. But there are worse things, I suppose. I could be a pixie. With their freakishly pointy heads and terrible, unemotional voices that could only belong to a corrupt businessman—or...maybe an...eye drop salesman...anyway, I guess, even worse than that, I could be a genie. Ha ha. Stupid genies. Trapped in their smelly little lamps, preaching their anti-smoof legalization propaganda. Doesn't get much more pathetic than that. In any case, I'm only bringing this up because I know that Fairy World has made your fortune too. And about two months ago…you were late on filing your taxes."

A long silence followed this.

Then, slowly, the fedora-wearing fairy man swiveled his chair around to face the man who had spoken prior. He slammed both of his hands down onto the desk in a moment of rage.

"You come to me, and you say, 'Big Daddy, bring me tax returns,'" the gruff Italian man snarled. "But you don't ask with respect. You don't offer friendship. You don't even think to call me 'Big Daddy.' Instead, you come into my house, on the day my daughter is to be married, and you ask me to do _murder for money_!"

Jorgen von Strangle, who was dressed in a neat tuxedo, stared at the man on the other side of the desk in utter surprise and confusion, blinking dumbly.

"I...what?" He cocked his brow. "For heaven's sake, all I asked about were your taxes—"

"Jorgen...Jorgen!" Big Daddy snapped. "What have I ever done for you to treat me so disrespectfully?"

"Well, okay, look, man...it's not even me who cares. Don't shoot the messenger. As you are aware, I work for the Fairy Council, and they were performing one of their routine checks, and they noticed that you—"

"You don't call me 'man,' bub!" Big Daddy grabbed Jorgen by the bowtie. Despite Jorgen's comparatively massive size, the smaller fairy was somehow able to forcefully hoist him face to face. "You call me by one name, and one name only! And do you know what that name is?"

"Big Daddy!" Jorgen yelped, fearfully. "Okay, okay! I'm sorry I asked! The Fairy Council told me to! I feel the need to clarify, once again, it is them— _them_ "—he gestured empathically away from himself—" _not_ I—who cares!"

"Tell them I'm thinking about it!" Big Daddy released his grip on Jorgen, and folded his arms. "I got things to sort out first, you know. More, uh, important matters to attend to."

"Okay, well," Jorgen said. "Just...don't ever say I didn't warn you."

Big Daddy glared at him again. "Are you threatin' me?"

"No...no, of course I'm not," Jorgen insisted.

"Because you know what happens to fairies that threaten me," He pounded his right fist into the palm of his left hand. "It ain't pretty, and it ain't something I wanna be dealin' with on this day, of all days! _Capisce_?"

"Alright, alright, _capisce_ , whatever! Geez," Jorgen shook his head, "I should've never told the Fairy Council I was coming to this wedding, they wouldn't have made me talk to you..."

"I also am not so pleased by this executive decision," Big Daddy rolled his eyes. He then proceeded to straighten out his pinstripe suit and hat. "Speaking of which, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to go to my daughter's wedding." He gestured to the enormous party taking place outside his office window.

Jorgen let out a chuckle, re-adjusting his bowtie. "What a crazy day this is, huh, Big Daddy? Your family and mine, united in marriage. You know, I never thought Leonard was the type to settle down...but I guess you've probably heard that about Blonda at least eighteen times, haven't you? Haha, ha...ha…"

Jorgen stopped talking and cleared his throat awkwardly as soon as he noticed that Big Daddy was glaring at him again.

"You know what, Jorgen, why don't you try shuttin' your yap for a while?" Big Daddy spoke sharply. "You might find it suits you well."

"Well—ha...I'm the best man, Big Daddy," Jorgen defended, oblivious. "I still have to give my best man speech— _mmph_!"

A large bag of garbage fell on Jorgen's head, knocking the massive fairy to the ground. Without a second thought, Big Daddy exited the room and gestured to the first fairy he saw. "Hey, Guido! Get me a plate of the lasagna out there, will ya? I'm starving!"

* * *

" _Eighteen times_?" Timmy Turner exclaimed in disbelief.

"Well, nineteen, if you count today!" Cosmo responded excitedly. "Because that's eighteen plus one! _Yay_! _I know math_!"

"I just don't understand," Timmy shook his head, skeptically regarding the two fairies who float-sat beside him at the neatly-adorned table. "How does someone get married and divorced eighteen times?"

"Blonda's a celebrity, Timmy," Cosmo said in a sing-song voice, holding a plate of lasagna close to his heart. "And everyone knows that there are three things celebrities do best: get botched plastic surgery, have incredibly graphic public mental breakdowns, and get married as many times as possible!"

"While eighteen is an overall absurd amount," Wanda acknowledged, tilting her glass of champagne toward the boy thoughtfully, "you have to remember, Timmy, that our lifespans are much longer than yours. We're essentially immortal, which means there's plenty of time to get married and divorced eighteen times. And have an absolutely over-the-top, gaudy, extravagant wedding...eighteen times."

"Nineteen times!" Cosmo corrected.

"Nineteen times," Wanda sighed and took a swig.

"I'm just glad they always serve the same lasagna at Blonda's weddings," Cosmo spoke, food falling out of his mouth as he did so. He waved a forkful of the pasta in Timmy's face. "Have you tried the lasagna yet, Timmy?! It's _deliziosissssssssima_!"

Timmy wrinkled his nose in disgust as he wiped Cosmo's spit from his face and the dress shirt he was wearing. "Alright, I guess that makes sense." He paused, taking a moment to survey the wedding reception. Loads and loads of fairies were float-seated at dozens of dining tables that were scattered upon Garbage Incorporated's front lawn. There was also a large stage at the front of the venue, where a set of floating magical instruments were currently playing the Conga.

Sure, Timmy had been to a fairy wedding before, but he certainly didn't disagree with Wanda on the fact that this one seemed an awful lot more garish than it had to be. He put a hand to his chin, and waited for a massive conga line of fairies to pass by their table and make their way back to the dance area before continuing to speak. "That's crazy to think about, though. Like...for humans, being married for, say, fifty years, is a really long time. But for fairies, I guess that's like the blink of an eye, isn't it?"

Wanda immediately snorted. "Are you insinuating that any of Blonda's marriages have lasted fifty years?"

"I remember her marriage to Paul Stanley didn't last very long," Cosmo shook his head. "I guess he _wasn't_ made for loving her. Ha! See what I did there? Ha..."

"Don't forget the April Fool," Wanda pointed out.

"Blonda was married to the April Fool?" Timmy was incredulous.

"For about four weeks," Wanda rolled her eyes.

"Turns out he's not as funny in May," Cosmo shrugged.

"She left him for the Easter Bunny, and then none of the Lesser Holidays would talk to each other, they would only talk to other people about each other, and boy, _that_ was annoying," Wanda rolled her eyes.

"Blonda was in a relationship with _the Easter Bunny_?!" Timmy exclaimed.

"Oh, yeah, I remember that. They all tried to steal each other's jobs. Baby New Year tried to take up stand-up comedy. And Cupid made all of those Easter egg-benedicts….oh, man, those were good." Cosmo shoveled another giant forkful of lasagna into his mouth. "But n't as good as dis lasagnaaaaa!"

"Cosmo!" Timmy snapped, shielding his face with a napkin. "If you're gonna talk with your mouth full, can you at least face the other way?"

* * *

Head Pixie and Sanderson float-sat, idly, at a table in a very far corner of the venue. They both surveyed the events of the boisterous wedding reception without emotion.

Sanderson began to take a sip of coffee, and H.P. checked his phone.

"Have you heard from Anti-Cosmo yet, Sanderson? I thought he'd be here by now."

"Well, H.P., if my calculations are correct, based upon the parallel laws of fairies and anti-fairies, today would also mark the day of his sister-in-law's nineteenth wedding. Therefore, I'd speculate he's stuck attending it."

"Right," H.P. acknowledged. "Good point. I wonder, then, if we should expect to see him at all. Although I do recall him saying he would meet us today."

"Perhaps time got the best of him," Sanderson said. He _PING!_ ed up two plates of lasagna, and offered one to H.P. "More lasagna? While I must say the Alfredo pales in comparison to my own, the lasagna is _muy deliciosa_."

"I believe that's Spanish, Sanderson."

" _Lo siento_."

"Again...that's still Spanish."

"With all due respect, sir, we can't all speak Italian. Are you going to eat the lasagna, or not?"

"I'll have it, _grazie_ ," H.P. rolled his eyes.

* * *

"The Easter Bunny is an animal, correct? Like...he's an actual...bonafide...animal."

"He's a bunny. It's in his name, Timmy," Cosmo rolled his eyes and swallowed his food. "And _I'm_ the stupid one here?"

"So, you're telling me, Blonda was in a romantic relationship with a bunny. A literal bunny. Do you guys not see how weird—...is that not _weird_ in Fairy World, or…?!"

Cosmo regarded Timmy with confusion. Wanda opened her mouth to respond, but was interrupted by a purple-haired, tuxedo-clad baby _POOF!_ ing into her arms.

"Poof-poof!" Poof greeted aptly.

"Poof! How's Mama's little world's-very-best-ring bearer?" Wanda asked, tickling the bottom of his chin. "Didn't I tell you to keep an eye on your great-uncles Piero and Carmino? Now where are they?"

Poof laughed, shook his rattle, and _POOF!_ ed up an object wrapped in brown paper. Wanda took it and unwrapped the object, revealing a dead fish.

"Aaaahhhh!" and "Gross!" Cosmo and Timmy both yelped, respectively, in unison.

"I'm going to have to talk to them about the types of movies they're letting you watch," Wanda said with a sigh, and _POOF!_ ed the fish away.

" _EVERYONE, MAY I HAVE YOUR ATTENTION PLEASE_!" A voice at the front of the garden boomed.

At the center of the stage in front of a microphone floated a blonde-haired fairy, who was wearing a very sparkly wedding gown and far too much makeup. As the music quieted and the members of the conga line, along with all of the other fairies in the dance area ceased their dancing, she folded her hands together and smiled a polite smile.

"I'd like to take a moment to thank all of you for coming; really, thank you all. It is such an honor to be able to celebrate this day with all of you wonderful people. So far, today has been the best day of my life, and I feel like I can safely say that no other day will ever come close to bringing me as much joy. Except for, perhaps, the day I finally win a Zappy. Ha, ha...ha..."

Blonda took a moment to clear her throat, as the wedding guests all began to laugh...some of them, hysterically.

"But, seriously, everyone," she spoke again, as soon as the laughter finally began to die down. "Today, I learned something very important. And that is, that there is no greater award to win in this world...than true love."

All of the wedding guests collectively "aww"ed; save for Timmy, who stuck his tongue out, and Wanda, who facepalmed.

"Today, I float before you, my friends, a new woman. Although I may look the same—beautiful, flawless, dressed to the nines in this exquisite diamond-encrusted wedding dress—thank you to my Uncle Valentino, he always knows how to pull out the stops—"

"Love you, baby girl!" Uncle Valentino yelled over the crowd. "You work those heels!"

"—but inside, I'm a completely changed person. And in a good way. And my husband..." Blonda paused, and glanced around. "Where is he?"

"I'm right here, honey!" A man shouted with a gruff, vaguely Germanic voice, very similar to Jorgen's.

A couple seconds later, what appeared to be a giant floating tuxedo and shoes ran up and stood beside the petite blonde fairy.

"It's funny 'cause he's invisible," Cosmo pointed out the obvious. "Like, he could've not even been at the altar, and no one would've known."

"Why is Jorgen's cousin invisible, anyway?" Timmy frowned.

"Oh my god, Timmy," Cosmo hissed in a tone similar to a teenage girl's, "You can't just ask people why they're _invisible_!"

Timmy threw up his hands defensively. Then, he folded his arms and scoffed. "Fairies are weird."

"Leonard and I got married because we love each other," Blonda said, joining hands with her unseen spouse. "But let it be known that I also want this marriage to be seen as a symbol of the fact that love is blind. That it doesn't matter what you look like, or...if you even look like anything at all. All that really matters...is what is on the inside."

The wedding guests once again collectively "aww"ed.

Except for Wanda. "Then _what_ is the point of the diamond-encrusted wedding dress?!" She hissed in frustration.

"Shhh, Wanda! I'm trying to listen to Blonda. This is a very important day for her," Cosmo said.

"Cosmo, we have heard her give this same speech—with slight variance—eighteen times!"

"Nineteen!" Cosmo chided. "Shhh!"

"I love you with all my heart, darling!" Leonard von Strangle proclaimed, putting an invisible hand to his invisible chest (although his bulging pecs were visible through his dinner suit).

"I love you too, sugar plum!" Blonda replied. "And now, without further ado, it's time for the best man's speech."

The two floated in silence for a moment, looking around in curiosity.

"Where is he?" Blonda asked. "It's Jorgen, right?"

"Uh, yeah…" Leonard hummed quizzically. "Hm. I wonder where he went."

"Jorgen's not invisible, is he?"

"Not last time I checked," If Leonard's face had been visible, he would've been frowning.

"Outta my way, I'm flyin' here! I'm flyin' here!" Big Daddy was suddenly making his way onto the stage, shoving past various floating band instruments, and zipped up beside the newlywed couple. "Hey! Jorgen's not, uh, here right now, I think he got busy with some, uh, business."

"What business?" Blonda demanded. "Business that's more important than my wedding?"

"Uh, you know. His regular business, some...uh...stupid-giant-oaf-who-doesn't-know-when-to-shut-his-mouth...business."

"Hmm...that _is_ his business," Leonard agreed without giving a second thought to what Big Daddy had just implied. Then, he shrugged. "Oh well. I don't need a best man—I already have a best woman."

Once again, most of everyone "aww"ed.

"I'm gonna throw up," Cosmo gagged.

"Because you've finally realized how ridiculous this all is?" Wanda asked.

"No, because I ate too much lasagna," He whined.

"And unfortunately, my designated maid of honor couldn't make it today, either," Blonda balled her fists, but still maintained a somewhat calm expression. "But Oprah is a very busy woman, so I understand."

"Oprah? Like...Oprah Winfrey?" Timmy asked.

"Oh, like she actually knows Oprah," Wanda rolled her eyes.

"In about ten minutes, we'll be cutting the cake. But first, I'd like everyone to participate in the classic Italian wedding tradition of placing envelopes with large sums of money into my purse for a chance to dance with me." Blonda _POOF!_ ed up a small satin handbag and clapped her hands. "Chop, chop!"

The band began to play once again, guests began to rush to the stage, and chatter resumed throughout the party.

"Man," Timmy said, noticing the large brigades of fairies with cameras attempting to shove their way into the venue, only to be pummeled and/or violently picked up and tossed by the large bodyguards surrounding the circumference. "Look at all the pooferazzi trying to break into this place. What a life."

"Too bad for them. Daddy has the place patrolled 24/7 anyway," Wanda said. "You couldn't break into this place if you tried."

"But what about that one time Mama Cosma broke in and kidnapped Big Daddy?" Timmy asked, and then became visibly perplexed. "Do you guys remember when that happened, or was that just some weird fever dream I had?"

"I _wish_ I could forget that it happened," Wanda pinched the bridge of her nose. Then, she flinched backward as Cosmo violently vomited onto the floor.

"Sorry I brought it up," Timmy grimaced.

* * *

"Fairies are weird," Sanderson droned, peering at the front of the party through a set of binoculars.

H.P.'s phone began to ring. He opened it. "Yes, Anti-Cosmo? Yes, we're at the fairy wedding. Is that so? Alright, I suppose we'll meet up tomorrow. Very well." The pointy-headed man hung up, and looked over at Sanderson. "You were right, Sanderson, he isn't coming. He has asked us to wait until tomorrow to execute our stratagem."

"But today seemed like such a perfect day," Sanderson commented as he twisted the lenses of the binoculars back and forth, attempting to bring his vision into focus.

"I'm inclined to concur. But we did make a deal with him."

"Has that ever actually stopped us before?"

"No," H.P. said. "And I never said it was going to."

Sanderson put his binoculars down. "I don't know this song," he said. "Do you think the band takes requests? I'm going to request 'Paradise by the Dashboard Light.' You can't have a wedding reception without playing 'Paradise by the Dashboard Light.'"

"If you're going to go all the way up there, at least bring me back a slice of cake."

* * *

Wanda had quickly solved the problem by shoving Cosmo's head into a nearby trashcan. Timmy pondered his surroundings with amusement.

"Y'know, for a venue decorated with conveniently placed garbage cans that's right next to a trash facility," he remarked, "this place smells surprisingly good."

"That was _my_ doing, back when I temporarily took over Daddy's company and installed all of the air fresheners," Wanda declared proudly. "Although I still can't believe they didn't keep those stylish uniforms I designed for them!"

"You really think a bunch of tough-guy garbage men wanted to fly around all day in those girly, bright pink outfits?" Timmy asked flatly.

"Look who's talking!"

" _Touché_."

"Hey, they're playing 'Paradise by the Dashboard Light'!" Cosmo voice echoed in the trashcan between violent retches.

Timmy looked over at the stage. "There's a pixie talking to the band," he observed.

"There's a what?" Wanda looked up in surprise.

Timmy pointed at Sanderson, who had made his way off the stage, and was now seemingly caught in the midst of several dancing fairies. "A pixie, do you see him? Caught between all those fairies, looking super out of place? Just one pixie, all on his own. Poor little guy."

"A pixie?" Wanda seemed concerned, although it didn't seem to be for the pixie's alleged loneliness. "What's a pixie doing here?"

"Dunno. Pixies never really struck me as party people..." Timmy snickered. "Wonder how he ended up at this wedding. I didn't even think pixies came to fairy weddings."

"Me either," Wanda muttered. She rose from the chair she had been hovering over, and handed Poof to Timmy. "I'll be right back. Stay out of trouble. And don't let Cosmo eat any more lasagna."

"Roger that," Timmy replied, and Wanda flew away.

"Hey, Timmy," Cosmo said. He had lifted his head, but it was still submerged in the now upside-down trashcan. "When they bring the karaoke machine out, you and I should duet on this song. I'll be Meat Loaf, and you be the girl."

"What—...Why do I have to be the girl?" Timmy argued. "And also, no way, dude. I don't want to sing a duet with you."

"Alright, fine. You don't have to, 'cause I know Poof will sing with me. In fact, we've been practicing our Neil Diamond songs! Ready, Poof? _SWEEEEEEEEEET CAROLIIIIINE_!"

"Poof-poof- _pooooooooooooooooooooooooof_!"

Timmy groaned.

* * *

"And so I says to him—" Big Daddy gestured widely as he told his story to the crowd of people around him, "I says to him—that ain't no incinerator...that's a _compost bin_!" He shouted, and then began to guffaw at his own punchline.

Wanda floated up beside the cackling man, and gently tapped him on the shoulder. "Sorry if I'm interrupting something, Daddy, but I—"

"Wanda! There you are!" Big Daddy said. "I was wondering where you was at. We still gotta take the family picture—now we just gotta find Piero and Carmino, wherever they went off to…"

"Daddy—"

"Geez, those two are always missing in action. They think they're chefs or somethin'. Always going to the market and buying absurd amounts of fruit. I keep tellin' 'em, we can't eat all them apples! And do they listen? Of course not."

"Um. Daddy…"

"Listen, Wanda, there's something I've been meaning to ask you." Big Daddy spoke in a hushed tone and glanced around, making sure the fairies around him had departed and were no longer within earshot of the two of them. "Could you, uh. Could you possibly...balance my checkbook?"

"What? Uh, sure," Wanda said dismissively. "Anyway, I have to tell you—"

"Oh, thank you, Wanda, you're a lifesaver!" Big Daddy tightly embraced his daughter. "I'm so glad I got a girl like you." His face very suddenly became serious. "So. Uh. Do you think we could get this wedding as a write-off?"

"Unlikely," Wanda choked out, her windpipe muffled by Big Daddy's tight grasp.

Big Daddy released her. "Hmph, well, you oughta try, and if not, I'll give the IRS a piece of my mind."

"Daddy..."

"I'll make 'em an offer…"

Wanda sighed.

"...they can't refuse," Big Daddy finished.

"Alright, you said it. You said the line," Wanda rubbed her forehead. "Now can we move on?"

"Anyway, I'm sorry, were you try'na say something?"

"Right, yes." Wanda held her hands up. "I'm going to tell you something, but before I do, you have to promise not to freak out, and-slash-or ruin the entire wedding."

"Is it Rocco's Recycling?" He snarled. "I told that goon and his cronies to stay off our property! Our business is stinky magic! That 'eco-friendly magic' nonsense he keeps talking about is _stronzata_!"

Wanda sighed. "No, Daddy. It's worse."

"What?" Big Daddy gasped.

* * *

" _ALRIGHT EVERYONE_!" Blonda shouted, and clapped her hands together with excitement. "It's time to cut the cake!"

A very, very tall wedding cake, tens of tiers high, stood on a table beside Blonda and her beau. Blonda waved her wand and procured a large knife from thin air. She turned toward Leonard, and thrust the knife at him. "You go first, honey!"

However, instead of eagerly grabbing the knife from his wife, the invisible man shrieked in pain. " _AAAAAHHH_! _My jugular_!"

Blonda and many of the wedding guests gasped in horror. Timmy and Poof both winced as they witnessed the event.

"Welp," Timmy said, "I guess that's what happens when you try to hand a knife to an invisible person."

"Whaaaat?" Cosmo, of course, still had the garbage can over his head. "What's going on? Did I miss something?"

"Oh, nothing. Blonda just stabbed her new husband, is all."

"Wait, really? Already?" Cosmo said. "That usually doesn't happen until after the honeymoon!"

* * *

"Okay," Wanda said, "Now this is all a very confusing situation, and clearly, there is a lot of explaining to do, but before we begin, can I please, please just ask that everybody here keep try to their emotions level, and stay...calm—"

" _WHAT DID YOU DO_? _WHAT DO YOU KNOW_? _WHY ARE YOU HERE_?" Big Daddy roared, his face mere centimeters away from the pixie in front of him. " _TELL ME_! _TELL ME NOW_!"

Wanda sighed. "Or...not."

Sanderson took a moment to consider his predicament. First, he'd been tied up to a chair against his will in Big Daddy's office. That in itself was embarrassing enough, but he also had to have the angry brute screaming and projecting his saliva all over the pixie's face. Behind Big Daddy, a pink-haired woman had her arms folded as she leaned against the front of the desk, and she had had the audacity to instruct him to keep his emotions level. As if pixies were known for their emotional outbursts…

"I'm not saying anything until I have a lawyer present," Sanderson replied.

" _PIXIE SCUM_!" Big Daddy asserted. "You got a lotta nerve showing up on my property! After what you did to my family? Sure, it's been thousands of years, but don't for a second think that I've forgotten!"

"Wait...aren't all pixies lawyers?" Wanda pondered aloud.

Suddenly, a loud rustling came from the corner of the room, and all three individuals turned to look toward the source of the noise.

"Oh, man," Jorgen rubbed his head as he shoved the garbage bag off of his body. "Geez Big Daddy, what do you even throw away around here? _Giant rocks_?"

Wanda regarded the man with surprise. "Jorgen! How long have you been in here? What happened to you? You missed your cue for the best man speech!"

"Oh, _I'm_ sorry, Wanda," Jorgen said sarcastically, and gestured wildly to the garbage bag beside him, "I was little too busy being knocked out cold by a trash bag! Wait a minute—" he finally noticed the tied-up pixie in the room. "Sanderson?! What is he doing here? You guys invited a pixie to Blonda's wedding? Weird—"

"No one invited a pixie!" Big Daddy shouted.

"That's the problem," Wanda said.

Jorgen put a hand to his chin. "Ohhhh," he said. "I see what's going on in here, then. A little interrogation of sorts? Some good-cop-bad-cop interaction going on here?"

"Here, Daddy, let me see if I can get some information out of him," Wanda approached Sanderson's chair, and Big Daddy floated aside. She then proceeded to violently shake the chair as she yelled, " _GIVE US ANSWERS, YOU PROWLER_!"

Jorgen blinked. "Or just…bad-cop-bad-cop. I guess that works, too."

Sanderson remained stoic. Although he couldn't help but wonder what happened to 'staying calm.'

A _PING!_ sounded, and the larger pixie with the pointier head appeared in the room.

"You rang, B.D.?" H.P. said, dragging his words out lazily.

"Yeah! I'd like an explanation for why one-a' your cronies was runnin' around at my daughter's wedding today!"

H.P. looked at Sanderson, and the two shared an emotionless glance.

"Well, Sanderson," H.P. said, "care to explain yourself?"

"What can I say," Sanderson replied. "I love weddings."

"Unbelievable. You crash a fairy wedding and don't even have the decency to snag me a _slice of cake_?" H.P. said in his classically monotonous tone, although he put an unusual amount of emphasis on the last three words of his sentence for some reason. Wanda glanced at Big Daddy, and wondered if he'd picked up on that.

Sanderson definitely had. "They hadn't cut the cake yet, sir."

"I see." H.P. slowly turned back to face Big Daddy. "Pardon my colleague's manners, Big Daddy."

"Lotta nerve," Big Daddy snarled, "Lotta nerve comin' here!"

"My naive associate meant no harm. Rest assured that something like this will never happen again."

"Oh no," Wanda said sharply. "You two aren't getting off that easy."

"Oh?" H.P. said.

"'Oh' is right!" Jorgen exclaimed. "The dull dunderhead was trespassing on private property! There's a jail cell at Fairy World Maximum Security Prison with his name on it!"

"In the immortal words of Tupac Shakur," Sanderson said, "'Even a smooth criminal must one day get caught, shot up or shot down with the bullet that he bought.'"

"I believe that's a matter of whether or not Big Daddy decides to press charges." H.P. turned back to Big Daddy. "Big Daddy, I know we've had some quarrels in the past. But we've both stayed out of each other's hair for the past...how long has it been? Nine, ten thousand years? Surely there's no desire to reignite a feud between us again."

"Oh, but you two haven't stayed out of _my_ hair!" Jorgen snarled. "Lest we forget that you enslaved Fairy World not too long ago! And there was a lot of singing!"

"Yes, but it was good singing. And you had your own polka number."

Jorgen considered this for a moment. "That _was_ a good number…" then he shook his head, regaining his senses, "...but it still does not make up for what you did!"

" _DAAAAADDYYYYY_!" came a gratingly screechy voice from down the hall.

"Oh, no," Wanda groaned.

Suddenly, the office door swung open and hit the wall with a deafening _SLAM!_

Blonda floated in the doorway. And she was seething. And her face was covered in cake.

" _WHAT IS GOING ON IN HERE_?" She demanded. "Do you people not know that today is _my wedding day_?!"

"Blonda, baby!" Big Daddy exclaimed. "Can you hear us out there? I'm sorry. I didn't mean to mess up your big day. And I missed you cuttin' the cake! How'd it go?"

Blonda seized up. "It—went—fine," she said, sharply. "I mean...Leonard doesn't need stitches or anything. So everything is fine!"

" _Stitches_?" Jorgen repeated. "You couldn't wait until after the honeymoon?"

"Are those pixies?" Blonda shrieked. "At my wedding? Oh, great! Just great! Wonderful! I can't believe this! This was supposed to be my day! My wedding! And now I'm watching everything crumble right before my eyes!"

"Blonda, please, calm down!" Big Daddy begged. "I'll make it up to you, peach, I swear!"

"Can't I just have myself a decent wedding reception?" Blonda pleaded melodramatically. "That's all I ask for! Please!"

"One might think you would have perfected the art by now, considering you've had eighteen of them," Wanda commented.

Blonda's overly dramatic sadness dissipated, and she turned instead to regard Wanda with overly dramatic surprise. "Oh...Wanda," she frowned. "I wasn't counting on seeing you here."

"You weren't counting on—...I'm your sister, you brat! Of course I'm here! My son was your ring bearer!"

"Isn't that the same dress you wore the last time I saw you?" Blonda asked abruptly.

"What? Are you surprised that I can keep a dress longer than you can keep a husband?"

Blonda gritted her teeth. "Don't test me, Wanda! This is my wedding day, ergo, the happiest! Day! Of! My! _LIFE_!"

An aggressive thought occurred to Wanda, and she grinned in a devious way. "You know what would make this the happiest day of my life?" She asked tantalizingly, rolling up her sleeves.

Blonda huffed with appall and waved both of her hands at her sister dismissively. "No! I am not engaging in a physical fight with you while wearing this wedding dress! Uncle Valentino said it's a rental..." She muttered.

"Uncle Valentino can put the dry-cleaning bill on my tab!" Wanda snarled, holding a fist up to Blonda's face.

Blonda forcefully pushed Wanda's hand down. "For goodness sake, Wanda! Why do you always resort to violence? Were you raised by a wolf?" Blonda scrunched up her nose, adding, "And were you dressed by one, as well? Honestly. That dress was out of style the _last_ time you were wearing it."

"You know what else is out of style? Washed-up celebrities pining for press, desperately clinging to a show that's been running for too long. What is going on on _All My Bicep_ s, anyway? Didn't your character get a dog last season? Where did it go?"

"Yeah, I was also curious about that," Jorgen chimed in. "And why doesn't Poof show up in episodes anymore? I am of course referring to the character of Doctor Poof Everwish."

"Yeah, and nobody even mentions he's gone," Wanda added.

"Okay, firstly: I'm not on the writing staff, I just work there! Secondly: _BLOW ME, WANDA_!" Blonda howled, leaping at the pink-haired fairy with claws bared, eliciting a sound from Wanda that was akin to a war cry.

" _HEY, HEY, HEY, STOP IT_!" Big Daddy roared, yanking the two sisters away from each other, holding them both in his hands by the backs of their dress collars. "Now, if _anybody's_ gonna be blowing _anybody_ around here, it's gonna be _ME_!" He paused, and then grimaced. "Okay, no, that...that didn't sound right…that didn't sound right at all…"

"It is apparent to me that you have some more pressing familial issues to sort out here," H.P. stated, gesturing at Sanderson. "So I believe this is where Sanderson and I take our cue to depart."

"Yeah, alright, fine, you pixies get off this time," Big Daddy shook his head, "but mark my words, H.P., if I ever see you on our turf again—"

"I assure you, Big Daddy, you won't need to worry about that," H.P. said.

"Wait!" Wanda protested. "You can't just let them leave, Daddy! They were trespassing! They've committed an actual crime!"

"Don't tell me how to run my business, Wanda!" Big Daddy snapped.

"I tell you to do what's best for the business! You know I do! You trusted me with the company while you were gone! And you listened to me when I told you to keep the air fresheners!"

"You're right, that was a good call," Big Daddy muttered, tapping his chin, "But you know what? Right now, I'm here, and this is my business, and—disregarding the previous times I've let you tell me how to run my business—don't tell me how to run my business, unless I tell you that you can tell me how to run my business! Does that make sense?"

"No!" Wanda exclaimed.

"Yeah, I think I talked myself in a circle, but you know what I mean!" Big Daddy seemed exasperated. " _Nobody tells Big Daddy what to do_!"

"Are you really just going to let them get away with this?" Wanda exclaimed incredulously.

"Oh, come on, Daddy, just kill the little one already or something," Blonda rolled her eyes. "Clearly, Wanda has some sort of insatiable bloodlust, and my wedding's already been ruined, so—"

"Blonda!" Big Daddy released both of his daughters, and then pointed a threatening finger at the blonde one. "Ain't no time for jokes like that! I don't care if this is your wedding or not, you are still my daughter first and foremost, and you still submit to my rules! _Capisce_?"

"Yes," Blonda spoke, remorsefully and fearfully. "I'm sorry, Daddy."

There was a long pause. Big Daddy eventually turned to look at the pixies.

"Well, get outta here, ya lousy pixies!" Big Daddy snapped. "What are you waiting for? You're gonna be late to a business meeting or something!"

"No," Sanderson glanced at his watch. "Not according to my schedule, we're not."

"He's being facetious, Sanderson," H.P. droned, and lifted his phone in the air. "Goodbye Big Daddy. Wanda. Jorgen. And congratulations, Blonda. May your marriage be filled with unbounded love and limitless joy."

With a pair of _PING!_ s, the two had magicked away.

Jorgen let out a whistle from the side of his mouth. "Can I just say something?"

"Oh, here we go," Big Daddy grumbled.

"At risk of being knocked out by another bag of unusually heavily garbage, I feel like that entire situation could've been handled better," Jorgen continued. "While the decision was up to you, Big Daddy, and—I'm not saying you made the wrong one, I'm just _saying_ —like Wanda said, they committed a crime. And you just let them go fr—oof!"

Another bag of garbage fell on Jorgen's head, which didn't surprise anyone.

"Alright! Now does _anyone else_ want to bother Big Daddy today?" Big Daddy challenged loudly.

At that precise moment, the door flew open again. Timmy swung in, almost stumbling over himself. Poof quickly followed suit, and Cosmo—who still had the garbage can over his head—came in fast behind them.

"Wanda! We were looking all over for you!" Timmy exclaimed.

"Yeah! And the worst part was, the entire time we were looking, I couldn't see anything!" Cosmo shouted, waving his arms in front of him helplessly. He then proceeded to violently collide with a nearby bookshelf. It toppled over, causing an avalanche of books to fall onto the other inhabitants of the room. " _Sorry_!" He yelled.

"Cosmo, take that stupid garbage can off your head already!" Timmy snapped, tossing away copies of _Arsenic and Old Waste_ and _Angela's Trashes_ that had fallen on his head.

"But the acoustics in here are amaaaaaaazing!" Cosmo sang in defense.

"Oh yeah, that's why we wanted to find you, Wanda—the karaoke machine's out! Cosmo says you do a mean Shania Twain!"

Wanda sighed and gently waved her wand to raise the fallen bookshelf. "I mean...I'm decent."

" _ **THEY STARTED KARAOKE WITHOUT ME**_?!" Big Daddy yelled, seemingly angrier about this than any other event that had happened that day. "They know I always start karaoke! For the love of Oberon, I gotta get out there! Get outta my way, Idiot Brigade!" He demanded.

Timmy and Cosmo obediently got out of his way. Big Daddy gestured to Blonda.

"Come on, Blonda! Get out there with me! You're the bride! It's a tradition!"

Blonda groaned, begrudgingly following her father out the door. "Daddy, there are only so many times I can handle you serenading me with 'Walking in Memphis'..."

"Hey! I can't help the fact that I was born with a voice perfect for a hybrid of soft rock and folk music!" Big Daddy's voice echoed down the hall. "Marc Cohn and I are practically vocal twins, I tell ya!"

"Come on, guys, let's go!" Timmy said, and he and Poof made a mad dash back out the door. "Come on, Cosmo!"

"I'm coming!" Cosmo yelled back, waving his hands to try and find the doorway—only to once again run into, and knock down, the same bookshelf. " _Sorry_!" He yelled again, and then eventually made his way out of the room.

Wanda dug her way out of a pile of various garbage-pun-related books, and waved her wand, yet again repositioning the bookshelf. All of the books magically fluttered back into their respective places.

It was also at this point that Jorgen was finally able to shove the garbage bag off of his head. "Whoa, where'd everyone go?" He then noticed the female fairy who was still in the room. "Well, Wanda."

Wanda glanced back at him with an eyebrow raised. "Well, Jorgen?" She echoed.

"You and I both agree that he shouldn't have let those pixies go," Jorgen said. "They're up to something. I can sense it. I can smell it in the air. Oh...wait...I think that might just be rotting fruit," the large fairy winced, pulling a banana peel out from where it had fallen down the back of his dress coat.

"Big Daddy does what Big Daddy wants," Wanda folded her arms tepidly. "So long as he's in charge."

"Yeah, well, you know what they say about friends and enemies," Jorgen said as he proceeded to also procure an old apple core that had become wedged within his tuxedo.

"Keep your friends close and your enemies closer?"

"Oh...yeah, that's better than what I was gonna say."

"What were you going to say?"

"I was gonna say…'I get by with a little help from my friends. I get high with a little help from my friends. I'm gonna try with a little help from my friends.'"

"The Beatles, huh?" Wanda said flatly. She didn't bother to question the fact his quote had nothing to do with 'enemies.' Or...with the majority of their conversation in general. She didn't fault him for it much, though; he _had_ just experienced two severe blows to the head, after all.

"Yeah. Ringo was _the_ most essential member, and I don't care what anyone else says. Ooh! Which reminds me!" Jorgen stood up excitedly, "I gotta get in line for karaoke!"

"I guess I do, too," Wanda conceded.


	2. At the Copa, Copa-Havana

It had been approximately seven weeks since Blonda's wedding when Sanderson finally burst into H.P.'s office on a very early Thursday morning, holding a manila folder.

"I did it," Sanderson said.

H.P. turned to face him, and placed his folded hands on the desk, regarding his assistant flatly. "Well, it took you long enough."

"It's only been seven weeks, sir. Our last plan took thirty-seven years."

"Perhaps," H.P. folded his hands. "But this one has been brewing for almost ten thousand."

"Why is it that every single one of our plans involves a clown and a loophole?" Sanderson asked. Then, after a pause, he clarified, "That was a rhetorical question. I am aware that this plan involves no actual clowns, I was using the term to insult our enemy's lack of sophistication."

"Yes, Sanderson. I acknowledge that the statement you made was intended to be humorous and have interpreted it as such. Furthermore, I appreciated the clever use of language."

"Thank you. I'll be here all week."

* * *

It was a relatively quiet Thursday evening in Dimmsdale.

" **FREDO**! **YOU'RE SUCH AN** _ **IDIOT**_!" Cosmo screamed at the television, dropping his slice of pizza in order to grab his head with both hands. "Michael is _right there_! He can hear everything you're saying! No wonder the Godfather didn't trust you to be Don!"

"This scene is so confusing," Timmy muttered, trying his hardest to concentrate on the movie he and Cosmo were watching. "Why do they call him Superman? I don't get it."

"Poof-poof," Poof magicked up his cell phone and began typing something.

Timmy's phone went _DING!_ and he took it out of his pocket to see what Poof had sent him.

"Gah!" Timmy exclaimed in horror after reading the text and gave Poof an incredulous look. "Are you _sure_ that's what it means?"

"Poof-poof!" Poof insisted.

"Alright, well... _maybe_ Wanda was right, you really shouldn't be watching this movie," Timmy frowned. "Come to think of it, where is Wanda? Shouldn't she have been back from the salon..." Timmy glanced at his phone to check the time, "...an hour and thirty-eight minutes ago?"

"Poof-poof," Poof agreed.

"Maybe we should go find her," Timmy said, and glanced at Cosmo, whose eyes seemed to be glued to the television. "...I'll take any excuse to stop watching this boring movie."

Timmy lifted the nearby remote, and turned off the television. Cosmo shrieked, flew up to the TV, and pressed both of his hands against the dark screen.

"No!" Cosmo turned to look back at Timmy, his face wrought with anguish. "I know it was you, Timmy! You broke my heart!" He flew up to him and grabbed him by the shirt. " _You broke my heart_!"

"If you kiss me, I'm going to punch you," Timmy spoke very flatly.

"Fair enough," Cosmo released the boy, seeming to have immediately lost his train of thought. His expression turned curious. "Hey, where's Wanda?"

* * *

It was not a very quiet Thursday evening where Wanda was.

She _had_ been at the salon, but her manicure had been rudely interrupted when she found herself abruptly abducted, blindfolded, gagged, and bound to a chair. It was not entirely what she had planned for her Friday evening, and she made this clear by filling the air with her muffled screams.

A few moments later, she felt someone yank the cloth off of her mouth, finally allowing her to vocalize freely.

" _Let go of me_!" She screamed. "I don't know who you are, or what you think you're doing, but you're not gonna get away with this! Whatever you want from me, you're not gonna get! I have dignity, you know! And even though you think you're better than me, I want you to know that I am a strong, independent woman, and I…"

Wanda continued to rant as her captor facepalmed.

"Why did I think removing the gag was a good idea?" He muttered to himself.

"…dismantle your oppressive worldview! And I'll have you know my daddy is a garbage man! If you even think about laying a hand on me, you're dead! And that's not a threat, that's a—"

"For _badness_ sake, Wanda!" The kidnapper snapped. "I have no desire to harm you in any way! Perish the thought! And I beg of you, for one moment, stop talking!"

Wanda stopped talking. The voice of her abductor was all too familiar.

"Anti-Cosmo?!" She exclaimed. "Is that you?"

The creature pulled the blindfold from off of Wanda's eyes, revealing himself to her to be, just as she had suspected, the blue-skinned Brit.

"Yes, Wanda," he tipped his hat toward the female fairy. "It is indeed, I, the profusely intelligent, horrifically cunning Anti-Cosmo."

"Where have you _been_?" Wanda shrieked. "I feel like I haven't seen you in years! You look…you look…uh…well, actually, you look exactly the same."

"And you look ravishing, as always," Anti-Cosmo rolled his eyes, "Although, my own wife remains light years ahead. It's a pleasure to see you again."

"Well, I can't exactly say the same," Wanda snarled, wiggling beneath the tight knots of the rope that bound her.

"I suppose you're wondering why I brought you here to my castle today."

"Wow! With great guessing skills like that, you really _must_ be a genius!"

"I suggest you save your sarcastic insults for another day, pet," Anti-Cosmo spoke flatly. "If either of us want to continue to live our lives in this universe, we're going to have to learn to communicate with each other in a mannerly fashion."

"What are you talking about?" Wanda demanded.

"So glad you asked." Anti-Cosmo paused, and cleared his throat. Then he said, "H.P. is planning to take over the world."

Wanda cocked an eyebrow at him. "...Okay? What else is new?" She queried. "Aren't you also constantly coming up with ways to take over the world?"

"Solid point, but this is different." Anti-Cosmo adjusted his monocle. "This plan is big. It's dangerous. And it involves your family."

Wanda still seemed pretty unaffected. "Surprise, surprise. What do they want with Timmy this time?"

"No, they don't want Timmy. I'm not talking about _that_ family. I'm talking about... _the_ family."

"This family, that family, what are you—" It was at that moment that Wanda suddenly remembered the events that had transpired at Blonda's wedding, and her blood suddenly ran cold. "...oh."

"H.P. was at your sister's wedding," Anti-Cosmo said.

"I know he was. I saw him there."

Anti-Cosmo grew visibly perplexed. "Wait, you saw him there? And you didn't do anything?"

"No, I wanted to do something. One of his other cronies snuck in, and I wanted to have him charged with trespassing, but Big Daddy let him go. He let them both go." Wanda frowned. "Which I thought was a dumb decision."

"I can safely confirm that that _was_ a dumb decision."

Wanda gasped. "So I was _right_! I knew it! I knew I was right! Go Wanda! Go Wanda! It's my birthday!"

"I wouldn't celebrate if I were you," Anti-Cosmo chastised, "because Big Daddy has now put himself, and the entirety of fairykind, in danger. World domination is imminent!"

"Wait a minute. Why are you telling me this?" Wanda asked. "Aren't you and H.P., like, partners in crime now, or something? You guys have, like, poker nights, or something?"

"We _were_ partners in crime," Anti-Cosmo dramatically turned away from her and bowed his head. "But that all changed when H.P. decided he wasn't going to play nice."

"Uh...do you mean... _literally_ didn't play nice during a poker game, or do you mean—"

"I know things, Wanda," Anti-Cosmo said sharply. "I know what H.P. is doing. Or, at least, I thought I knew. Because I was in on it! He and I were supposed to work on this plan together. It was to be a diabolical coalition of sorts! And this was going to be the one! _The_ plan that would be successful! He told me there were no longer any holds barred! That he'd stop at no means to achieve dominance, and I told him I'd do the same! But then...he went behind my back. That dastardly bloke went on with it without me. Which I realize now was his plan all along, and I daresay I'm a fool for believing otherwise! If only I hadn't been so naive, and if only the pixies weren't so bloody good with scheduling..." Anti-Cosmo balled his fists. "You think I wanted to go to that _stupid_ wedding?! It's a farce, all of it! I don't know why Anti-Wanda insists we have to go to them every single time. The lasagna isn't even that good!"

"Okay, whoa, whoa, whoa. _What_ are you talking about?"

Anti-Cosmo sighed. "I was supposed to be with H.P. at your sister's wedding, Wanda. It was where we were supposed to execute our first step in our multi-step plan of world dominance. However, due to circumstances out of my control, I was unable to meet him there. And it has now come to my attention—a bit too late, regretfully—that H.P. no longer wants to work beside the anti-fairies, and instead will use this plan to achieve dominance over both the fairies _and_ anti-fairies. And while he is a conniving, manipulative madman, he _did_ say he'd stop at no means to achieve dominance...and breaking his truce with the anti-fairies is certainly proof of that."

"So…" Wanda stared at him, flummoxed. She took a moment to process the load of information the anti-fairy had just bestowed upon her. "H.P. is going to try to take over the universe. Should we be...afraid? Or just prepare ourselves for a mild inconvenience? Like usual..."

"The former! Afraid! You should be _very afraid_!" Anti-Cosmo announced in exasperation. "H.P. and I had a truce, Wanda, and he was willing to break it! Who is to say he won't break the truce with your father?"

"He—" Wanda narrowed his eyes. "He wouldn't."

"Oh, but he would."

"That's…" Wanda scoffed. "That's insane. You're insane, Anti-Cosmo!"

"I prefer the term 'maniacal.' It sounds more evil. In any case, someone needs to stop him. And I figured that someone would be _me_ , considering, well...I was originally in on his plan, before he so rudely dismissed me from it. Plus, he betrayed me, and I'm personally offended."

"Alright, good luck. You're still insane. Can I go home now?"

"No!" Anti-Cosmo exclaimed. "You see, I have been mulling over what to do about this for ages. Approximately seven weeks, in fact. Despite my exquisite problem-solving skills and unmatched intelligence, I can't seem to make much progress. H.P. is too powerful, too manipulative. It's simply illogical for me to believe I'd be able to stop him alone. And only after I realized that, was when…I realized…I needed you."

Wanda stared at him with disbelief. " _Me_?"

"Yes, you. Wanda." Anti-Cosmo met her gaze. "With your help, Wanda, I believe I have the best chance at defeating HP once and for all."

Wanda continued to stare at him, for a long moment.

Then, she began to laugh. Her cackling became so violent, she almost toppled over the chair she was sitting in.

"You think _I'M_ going to help _YOU_?!" She shouted, crying from laughing so hard. "Me! Help Anti-Cosmo, _LEADER OF THE ANTI-FAIRIES_ , not to mention the _literal opposite of my husband_ , defeat and destroy the pixies! Ahahahahaha! That's rich! That's just too much! _Ahahahahaaaaaaa_!"

"I comprehend the hilarious irony of the situation, Wanda; really, I do. But I am sorry to inform you that I am not joking." Anti-Cosmo sighed. "I am completely, and utterly, serious."

Wanda stopped laughing, and glared at him. "Oh, and I'm supposed to believe that all of what you said is true? I'm supposed to believe you wanted me to help you? Over anyone else? Out of everyone you could have asked to help you? How stupid do you think I am?"

"And who else, exactly, could I have asked?" Anti-Cosmo snapped. "Thanks to my horrific disappointment of a son, the Anti-Fairy Council currently thinks I'm a joke. Jorgen would never in a million years give me the time of day—not that I particularly desire that giant oaf's help in the first place. My wife, though I love her, is a bumbling idiot, as are most of the rest of my colleagues…" he huffed. "I daresay, Wanda, that you're the smartest person I know. Next to myself, of course."

"Well that's just—that's just…" Wanda trailed off. A grin slowly crept up on her face, "That's so sweet of you to say."

"I am not sweet, I am treacherous," Anti-Cosmo balled his fists. "And desperate, obviously. But I do believe we'd make a great team, Wanda."

"So, wait…" Wanda narrowed her eyes. "You want me to help you stop H.P. from taking over the world. And you figured the best way to ask me to do this was to _kidnap me in the middle of a manicure_?! My nails are half done!"

"Well, what do you suppose I should've done instead, woman?" Anti-Cosmo questioned. "Waited until you were home, gone up to the door of your fishbowl castle and knocked? Because I'm sure that would've gone over quite well!"

"You do know that Timmy, Cosmo, and Poof have got to be looking for me right now," Wanda said. "And I'm sure any moment Timmy'll come barging in here with a wild explanation as to how he figured out you're the one with kidnapped me."

"Yes, yes. But I figured it would be easier for you and I to come to an agreement without the boisterous input of Turner, my ignorant boob of a counterpart, and your offspring distracting either of us." Anti-Cosmo folded his arms. "So, what do you say, Wanda? Will you assist me in 'dismantling the oppressive world' the pixies will soon attempt to force upon us?"

Wanda sighed, and rolled her eyes. "Well, I guess I could. It's not like I was doing anything else today…other than getting a manicure," she regarded him with annoyance.

"I will pay for your next manicure," Anti-Cosmo rolled his eyes.

"And?"

"And...I'll untie you from the chair."

Anti-Cosmo waved his wand, and with an _anti-poof!_ , the rope constricting Wanda's body disappeared. Wanda immediately folded her arms, looking unimpressed.

"And?" She demanded.

" _And_ here's your wand back," Anti-Cosmo retrieved Wanda's wand and handed it back to her.

" _And_?"

Anti-Cosmo scoffed. "And a pedicure! Are we even now?"

Wanda smirked. "We're even."

"Glad to have you as a comrade, Wanda," Anti-Cosmo asserted. "…For the record, the entire time you were tied up, you could've just shapeshifted into a smaller form and freed yourself."

"…I knew that."

"I'm sure you did."

"Don't belittle me. I'm the smartest person you know."

"I already regret telling you that."

A thunderous **_BOOM!_** suddenly shook through the entire lair. A giant battering ram had busted a large hole smack dab in the middle of the room's castle-style wooden doors. The dust settled, revealing a pink-hatted boy accompanied by his two green and purple flying accomplices.

"Freeze, Anti-Cosmo! And let go of Wanda!" Timmy declared triumphantly, dropping the battering ram, while Cosmo and Poof both shouted "Wanda!" and "Mama!" respectively.

Anti-Cosmo and Wanda both regarded the three intruders with quite startled looks. Then Wanda smirked as she looked back at Anti-Cosmo with a 'what-did-I-tell-you?' expression.

"See? I told you guys she'd be here!" Timmy said to Cosmo and Poof. "And you guys said my explanation was too wild!"

"Oh, for heaven's sake, you could've _knocked_ ," Anti-Cosmo lamented, floating over to more closely survey the hole Timmy had created in the doors.

"Are you okay, Wanda?" Timmy asked, running up to her.

"I'm fine, sport," Wanda replied, "Anti-Cosmo wanted to ask me a question, and his genius mind figured the best way to get my attention was to kidnap me. Apparently, he's never heard of a _phone call_. Are you guys alright?"

"Oh—" Timmy paused, surprised by Wanda's blasé demeanor. "Yeah, we're fine, but—well, I mean, it's a good thing you're alright...because we have bad news."

"Did you guys set fire to the backyard trying to use Poof as a cannonball again?"

"No—" Timmy said quickly.

Poof gave an ill-timed cough, and a cloud of smoke plumed from his mouth. He immediately covered his mouth with both of his hands, looking embarrassed. Wanda folded her arms.

"...well..." Timmy said hesitantly, "…okay, yes, but that's a different story—"

"Big Daddy's in jail!" Cosmo blurted out.

"What?!" Wanda exclaimed. "Big Daddy's in jail?! Why? What happened?"

"He got caught, Wanda!" Cosmo cried. "He got caught doing the most horrible, terrible thing a fairy could do!"

Wanda gasped. "No! You don't mean—"

* * *

" _TAX EVASION_!"

Wanda blinked. Her expression immediately changed from one of panic to one of confusion. "...Tax evasion?" She echoed.

Big Daddy slumped over, burying his head in his hands. He float-sat across from Wanda, separated from her by a pane of glass. "I'm so ashamed!" He sobbed into the prison phone. "I kept telling myself it would never catch up with me, but I was a fool! I let the business down, I let the boys down, and I let _you_ down, Wanda!"

Wanda shook her head, trying to clear her mind of unrelated assumptions. "Daddy, please don't cry," she spoke into the receiver. "It's okay! All of the world's greatest CEOs get nabbed for tax evasion! Plus, it's partially my fault, anyway. You asked me to balance your checkbook weeks ago, and I just didn't get around to doing it in time—"

"Balancing a checkbook would've done nothing to change your father's fate, Wanda!" Jorgen von Strangle—who was standing nearby, along with Timmy, Cosmo, and Poof—interrupted unceremoniously. "Big Daddy hasn't filed his taxes in over three thousand, nine hundred, and sixty-five years!"

Wanda turned to Jorgen with a look of shock. "Three thousand, nine hundred, and sixty-five years?! Daddy, that's a long time! What have you been _doing_?!"

Big Daddy held up his hands helplessly. The phone, being magic, remained properly against his face so that he could clearly speak into it. "Numbers, y'know! Taxes are...just so many numbers! I'm not good with 'em! I'm a garbage man, for Oberon's sake, not a number...counter...man!"

"Nor are you a wordsmith," Jorgen remarked.

Big Daddy slammed both of his hands against the glass in front of him and hollered, " _MARK MY WORDS VON STRANGLE ONCE I GET OUT FROM BEHIND THIS GLASS YOU'RE GONNA GET A BIG INCINERATOR SHOVED STRAIGHT UP YOUR_ —"

Wanda immediately hung up the phone and shielded Poof's eyes as Big Daddy proceeded to make an obscene gesture. Timmy and Cosmo both grimaced.

"Yikes," Timmy said.

"I don't think that's where an incinerator is supposed to go," Cosmo shook his head.

Jorgen snorted. "A man is a lot less menacing when he's behind a glass wearing a tacky orange jumpsuit! Maybe if a certain someone had heeded my warning a few weeks back, and he might not have ended up in this predicament, hmm? Watch this, you guys."

Big Daddy was still yelling; although, due to the fact he could no longer be heard, it just looked like a lot of flailing and violent spitting. Jorgen went up and hit the bottom of his wand on the glass. This seemed to startle Big Daddy, and the man fell back in a daze.

" _Ha_! Ha ha, ha! I love banging on the glass!" Jorgen cackled. "It is like tapping on a fishbowl! Really freaks 'em out!"

Wanda gave Jorgen a disdainful look and then picked up the phone again. "How long are you in here for, Daddy? Have they told you yet?"

"Not long. At least, it better not be long, I got the best lawyers the money can buy! Uh, that _legitimate money_ can buy, of course," he said quickly. "I'll be out of here soon, I'm sure of it. But...in the meantime, while I am in here, I'm gonna need somebody to run the family business."

" _I'll do it_!" Cosmo volunteered eagerly.

Wanda and Big Daddy both turned to look at Cosmo; the former perplexed, the latter annoyed.

"What? You don't think I'm capable of running the family business? I'm plenty capable! I can handle things!" He _POOF!_ ed an oversized fedora on his head. "All you have to do is order people around all day and drop garbage bags on them!"

"For once, Cosmo is not wrong," Jorgen chimed in.

"Wanda, if you'd please do the honors," Big Daddy spoke flatly, "I'm not able to use my stinky magic powers while I'm behind bars."

"Sure thing," Wanda said and waved her wand.

Immediately, a big bag of garbage fell on Jorgen's head.

" _Oof_!" The large fairy coughed as he was knocked to the ground.

"See?!" Cosmo pointed excitedly at Jorgen's collapsed body. "I could totally do that!"

" _And_?" Big Daddy said to Wanda.

"Daddy," Wanda rolled her eyes.

"Come on, do it for Big Daddy!"

"Do wha— _aack_!" Cosmo started to ask, before Wanda dropped a bag of garbage on him as well.

"Thank you. Now then, as I was saying," Big Daddy began assertively. "Wanda, I'm trustin' you with full and complete control of the company. At least, until I'm outta this rack!"

"Alright, Daddy. But you better be telling the truth when you say you'll get out of here soon—running the business takes a lot of concentration, and I've got other responsibilities!" She gestured to Timmy and Poof. "I've got these guys and an idiot to look after!"

"I know, I know. I swear to you, my little meatball, I'll be out of here in no time."

It was at this moment Jorgen flung the garbage bag off of himself. "Aaargh! Again, with the absurdly heavy trash! What do you people throw away?!"

"Wait, Wanda," Timmy spoke up. "You're going back to Fairy World to run Big Daddy's business? Again?"

"Looks like it, sport," Wanda replied.

A muffled yelp came from beneath the trash bag on the floor. Cosmo clawed his way out from underneath, and whined, "Awww, but Wanda already gets to control everything! Now she gets to be in charge of the most powerful company in Fairy World? Again?"

"Don't make me drop another trash bag on your head, Cosmo!" Wanda snapped.

"Well _someone_ has anger issues."

"I _do not_!"

"Right," Big Daddy said suddenly, "Before I forget. About those anger issues, Wanda—"

" _I don't have anger issues_!" Wanda barked, causing Big Daddy to pull the phone away from his ear.

"Ehhh, listen, cannoli, as much as I hate agreeing with the idiot, ya kinda do," Big Daddy shrugged.

"Big Daddy agrees with me!" Cosmo exclaimed proudly. "This is the greatest moment of my life!"

"Shut up, scooch!" Big Daddy snapped.

Wanda proceeded to drop a second bag of trash onto Cosmo, who shrieked as he was crushed once again.

"Yeesh, Wanda," Timmy frowned.

"That was justified!" Wanda defended. "It doesn't mean I have anger issues!" She suddenly looked confused. "...Does it?"

"Thaaaat seems like a loaded question," Timmy said cautiously, glancing between the crushed Cosmo and dazed Jorgen.

"I resent this sudden, unprecedented attack on my character," Wanda announced, folding her arms.

"Wanda, listen to me," Big Daddy said. "I know you. You got a kind heart, but that don't mean you don't also have a tendency to get irrationally angry and-slash-or needlessly violent. But I got a reputation to uphold, so please, don't let your anger interfere with your decision-making while you're runnin' my business," Big Daddy said sternly.

"Pot calling the kettle black," Jorgen muttered.

" _JORGEN IF I HEAR ONE MORE WORD OUTTA YOU I SWEAR I'LL TAKE THIS PHONE CORD AND_ —"

Jorgen immediately banged on the glass, stunning Big Daddy again.

"—stop doin' that! It's freaky!" Big Daddy cried. "Anyway, do I have your word, Wanda? Don't go startin' things you don't gotta!"

"Of course I won't, Daddy," Wanda's face twitched, but she looked at Big Daddy earnestly. "You have my word."

Big Daddy held his arms out. "My sweet zeppola, what I wouldn't give to hug you right now!" He winced and scratched his back. "And what I wouldn't give to get out of this jumpsuit! This thing rides up!"

"Alright, you idiots, visiting hours are over," Jorgen said, glancing at his watch. "And so is my shift. _EVERYBODY OUT_!"

"I'll see you soon, Daddy," Wanda said.

"I sure hope so, pumpkin! And remember, don't do anything I wouldn't doooooooo!" He shouted desperately, reaching out to touch the glass.

All five of the other inhabitants of the room stared at him for several seconds in silence.

"I guess I didn't need to be that dramatic," Big Daddy said.

"Yeah. We're gonna leave, now," Wanda said.

"Okay. See you soon. Send zeppoles! If you can!"

* * *

Wanda was finished packing her bags pretty quickly, on account of the whole "magic" thing. She waved her wand and swiftly clamped all of her suitcases shut. "Okay, I think that's all I need," she said. "Are you sure you three will be okay while I'm gone?"

"Yeah, sure," Timmy said dismissively. "We'll be fine."

"Poof-poof," Poof nodded.

"Promise you'll write!" Cosmo exclaimed.

"I'll be back soon, but if you guys need me, you know where to find me." Wanda clapped her hands. Three brawny Italian fairy men and a floating car suddenly _POOF!_ ed into place beside her. Two of them took her suitcases and the other one opened the car door for her.

Wanda floated over to each of the three and gave them all a kiss on the cheek.

"Take care of yourselves. And don't get into any trouble while I'm gone!"

Cosmo gave Timmy a side-eye. Timmy wiped Wanda's lipstick off his cheek and made a face. Poof merely giggled. Wanda frowned.

"In retrospect, I probably shouldn't have said that out loud," She sighed.

"Ya think?" Timmy rolled his eyes.

"Meter's runnin', boss," remarked one of the large men.

Wanda turned around and smirked. "Alright, fellas, let's get this show on the road!"

Wanda and the three men gathered into the car. The others waved, which was kind of an odd sentiment, as the car didn't drive off, it merely disappeared with a _POOF!_ cloud that made a honking noise.

After several seconds of silence, Cosmo glanced over at Timmy and Poof. "What do we do now?"

Poof shrugged.

"Hopefully nothing crazy happens to us while Wanda's gone," Timmy said.

At that precise moment, the doorbell rang. Timmy, Cosmo, and Poof all exchanged a glance.

"In retrospect, I probably shouldn't have said that out loud," Timmy frowned.

"Ya think?" Cosmo exclaimed.

" _Timmyyyyy_!" Timmy's Mom beckoned from downstairs. " _Come down here_! _Your friend is at the door_!"

"Coming!" Timmy called back. He grabbed the fishbowl off his bed stand, and Cosmo and Poof both assumed their goldfish disguises and splashed into the bowl. Then, the boy exited his room and ran down the stairs, only to stop in his tracks and stumble backward a bit when he saw the person who was standing at the front door.

"Timmy!" Timmy's Mom said, turning to face the boy with a hand on her heart. "You never told us you were friends with the Buxaplentys' son!"

"More importantly, you never told us you were friends with a boy who _owns a limo_!" Timmy's Dad added in amazement.

Sure enough, Remy Buxaplenty himself stood in the doorway. The snooty young boy lifted his hand and adjusted his bowtie, and then gave a gentle pat to the suspiciously purple ferret perched on top of his shoulders.

"I bet there's a lot of secrets Timmy keeps from you two, Mr. and Mrs. Turner," Remy spoke with a haughty grin.

"Remy," Timmy spoke, his expression immediately switching from surprise to standoffish. "What are you doing here?" He demanded.

"Well, I was in the neighborhood," Remy responded smoothly. "It's been a while since we saw each other last, hasn't it?"

"Yeah, I actually didn't think I'd see you again," Timmy said sharply. "How's military school?"

Remy's expression faltered; he did not do a very good job of hiding resentment. "Oh, you know. It's been...a blast." He made an exploding gesture with his hands.

"Ha! I get it!" Timmy's green-eyed goldfish exclaimed, the pun not lost on him. "Because he blew up the whole school! Remember that, Timmy? Gooood times, good—...no wait, not good times. Bad times! I almost died! _BAD TIMES_!"

"Cosmo, shut up!" Timmy hissed.

"So anyway, there is an actual reason I came here," Remy said. He procured a pamphlet from his back pocket, and handed it to Timmy's Mom.

"Ooh! What is it?" Timmy's Dad asked, curiously peering over Timmy's Mom's shoulder. "Does it involve limos?"

"It's a brochure," Timmy's Mom said, "For Buxaplenty Suites Havana!"

"That's correct," Remy said. "You see, my parents have just opened up a brand new beachside resort in Havana. Complete with front and back verandahs with tropical views, an infinity pool, three gourmet restaurants, room service, complimentary tea and cookies, spa, and an oceanside bar."

"That sounds lovely!" Timmy's Mom said.

"Tea _and_ cookies?!" Timmy's Dad exclaimed, grabbing his hair with both hands.

"Since Timmy and I are such good friends," Remy smiled a very conniving smile, "I wanted to ask you if you'd be interested in an all-expenses-paid weekend getaway for the three of you at our new hotel."

" _What_?" Timmy yelped in disbelief.

"Would we!" Timmy's Mom gushed, looking through the brochure with excitement.

"Hmmm, that depends..." Timmy's Dad said, rubbing his chin. "...Do we get to ride in the limo?"

"Sure," Remy said.

" _I'm in_!" Timmy's dad shouted. He ran into a different room, and then ran out a few seconds later, somehow already dressed in a tropical shirt, cargo shorts, straw hat, and sunglasses, and he was holding a packed suitcase in each hand. "Tea _and_ cookies, _HERE WE COME_!"

"Oh, give me a second to pack! I need to find my bikini! I hope it still fits me—I haven't been on a beach vacation in ten years!" Timmy's Mom ran to her bedroom, and quickly added, " _Or however old Timmy is_!"

"Oooh! That's right! I almost forgot to pack my speedo!" Timmy's Dad chased after her.

As soon as both of his parents were out of sight, Cosmo and Poof returned to their true forms and floated above Timmy. Remy's ferret did the same, shapeshifting into Juandissimo Magnifico, who had a very similarly cheeky expression to the one Remy was wearing.

"What gives, Buxaplenty?" Timmy snapped. "An all-expenses-paid trip to Havana? Who do you think you are?"

"Richer than you will ever hope to be," He replied casually. "What's the matter, Turner? I can't spread my wealth and generosity around every once in a while?"

"No, of course not! You're Remy Buxaplenty—you'd never just give money away, unless you have something to gain from it!"

"I resent that accusation, Turner," Remy said. "I assure you I mean absolutely no harm. Neither I nor my fairy godfather do. Isn't that right, Juandissimo?"

" _Sí_ , he speaks the truth, Timmy," Juandissimo vouched. He then turned to Cosmo and gave him a look of pity. "Cosmo, it is with utmost sincerity that I extend my sympathy toward the fact that Wanda has left you. _Mí corazón_ breaks for you. This weekend, I hope you and I can mend our differences, celebrate, and have some good times together. This in turn will hopefully help alleviate the heartache she has left in both of us."

"Wanda didn't leave me, el jerko!" Cosmo said, glaring daggers at the fairy across from him. "She's in Fairy World running the garbage business 'coz Big Daddy's in jail!"

"Is that so?" Juandissimo hummed, and considered Cosmo's words for a moment. "Oh well. We can probably still have fun on the beach anyway. Banana daiquiris are on me!" He asserted, _POOF!_ ing up a pair of the fruit cocktails.

Cosmo clicked his tongue and snatched one of the drinks from him. "Now you're speaking my language!" He said cheerfully.

Timmy shook his head disdainfully at Cosmo and Juandissimo. He then felt Poof latch onto his arm, huddling behind the boy nervously.

"Poof-poof?" Poof asked, curiously.

"Ah, yes, of course, where are my manners?" Timmy said to the baby. He gestured to the blond boy in front of them. "Poof, this is Remy Buxaplenty. He's one of my mortal enemies," he explained nonchalantly.

"Teaching them lies and hatred at a young age, I see," Remy huffed. "Honestly, Timmy. I mean no ill will toward you or your family. I am, in fact, offering this vacation as a sign of peace."

"A likely story," Timmy folded his arms. "I've fallen for your tricks too many times, Remy. I'm not falling for it this time!"

"Suit yourself," Remy said. "But whether you like it or not, I doubt you'll be able to talk your parents out of this trip."

"Timmy!" Timmy's Mom shouted from down the hall.

All three of the fairies immediately transformed back into their animal selves as the woman re-entered the room.

"Why haven't you started packing?" The adult woman inquired as she sauntered back into the living room, holding her own luggage, wearing a straw hat, sunglasses, and a yellow polka dot bikini. "You need to get a move on, because your father and I are all ready to go! And wouldn't you know it, my bikini still fits!"

"And so does my speedo!" Timmy's Dad proclaimed as he darted back into the room, proudly wearing an incredibly tight, neon red speedo.

Timmy screamed, nearly spazzed out, and shielded his eyes. " _The horror_!"

"See you in Havana, Timmy," Remy smirked, stepping out onto the porch. The purple ferret on his shoulders waved at the pink-hatted boy. "I'll send another limo in a few minutes to take you three to the airport."

" _Yay_! _A limoooooo_!" Timmy's Dad pumped both his fists in the air, inadvertently thrusting his pelvis as he did so.

Timmy groaned and thunked his head against the fishbowl in his hands.

* * *

A/N: I tried writing an author's note at the beginning of this chapter, but the Doc Manager wouldn't let me do it neatly. If I _had_ been able to put one at the beginning of this chapter, I would've informed you that this story takes place in a timeline completely separate from my other fics. Not that anyone...remembers what happened in my other fics. I don't even remember what happened in them. But if you _do_ remember what happened, it probably became very evident to you that this is a separate timeline as you read this chapter. Thank you for reading it, by the way. Merry Christmas, ya filthy animals.

Also, that Timmy-Cosmo kiss scene thing was a blatant _Godfather II_ reference. Just so...just so we're clear. That's all that that was. This isn't...gonna be...one of those stories. Not that there's anything wrong with—okay, maybe I shouldn't have said anything...


	3. Leave the Gun, Take the Cheetos

It was Sunday morning in Fairy World.

Wanda swung around in her swivel chair, tilted her fedora upwards, and lifted a finger, pointing it threateningly at the man in front of her. " _Don't make me send you back up the river, Binky_!"

The tiny, purple-eyed fairy positively quaked with fear. "I—I'm sorry, Big Wanda! I'll get the money to you as soon as possible, I—I swear—"

"Honestly, I figured the first time I sent you up the river was enough," Wanda continued. In actuality, she seemed to be far more worried than angry. She gestured to a map of Wales that was floating beside her. "If the people living along River Towy, longest river in Wales, don't begin to dispose of their garbage properly, stinky magic is going to wreak havoc on their beautiful ecosystem and endanger the otters!"

"All of those poor otters…" Tears formed in Binky's eyes. "Homeless because of me!"

"It's not your fault, Binky. It's the fairy godparents living there causing all of the issues. They need a good, stern talking to. I'll let you keep the money so long as you try harder this second time. Okay?"

"Oh—o-okay," Binky stuttered, and saluted her. "Yes Big Wanda, sir! _I mean ma'am_! Gee, Wanda, you're a _much_ nicer boss than Big Daddy was! If I were talking to him, half of my head would be down a garbage chute by now!"

"Where…would the...other half be?" Wanda asked, looking perturbed.

"Boss!" One of Wanda's stony-looking bodyguards beckoned, entering the office. "Your next client is here to see ya. Should I send 'im in?"

"Sure, Martino," Wanda said. "No more visitors after this though, okay? I'll see you later, Binky. Please bring back good news."

"I'll try, sir— _ma'am_!—sorry!" Binky rose, looking very determined as he lifted his wand. "For the otters!" He cried, and in a _POOF!_ was gone.

A scream filled the room as a bodyguard tossed Wanda's next guest into the office.

"I say!" Anti-Cosmo exclaimed indignantly, lifting himself off of the ground and dusting himself off. "That did not seem particularly warranted! I haven't even committed anything remarkably evil yet today!"

"Oh, hi, Anti-Cosmo," Wanda rolled her eyes.

"Hello, Clarice!" Anti-Cosmo declared with a menacing grin.

"That seems like an unnecessary movie reference."

"Speak for yourself!" Anti-Cosmo declared. "I hope you haven't forgotten, Wanda, of our pact we made the other evening. You know, the one where you and I team up and destroy the pixies forever?"

"I remember," Wanda disdainfully glanced down at her half-painted nails.

"So! A little bat told me that you've taken over for Big Daddy and are running his corporation as of late!"

Wanda folded her hands on top of Big Daddy's oversized desk, that she was sitting at in Big Daddy's oversized chair, with a large painted portrait of a smug-looking Big Daddy hanging behind her. "...What was your first guess?"

"This turn of events has the pixies written _all_ over it," Anti-Cosmo asserted. "I bet you all of the salt shakers in the world that _they_ are the ones who got your father sent to jail!"

"As much as I'd like to believe that someone else was at fault for that, Big Daddy committed tax evasion." Wanda shrugged, "He confessed to it."

"Perhaps, but he got away with it for over three thousand years. Why in the world would he have gotten caught now...so shortly after your sister's wedding?"

"I don't know," Wanda frowned, and narrowed her eyes suspiciously at the man in front of her. "But something tells me you do."

"I think they did something," Anti-Cosmo said.

Wanda waited for him to elaborate, but he didn't. She gave him an odd look.

"What do you think they did?"

"Something…" Anti-Cosmo folded his hands, looking thoughtful, "...calculated. And well-planned. And, above all, very evil!"

Wanda regarded him flatly. Anti-Cosmo seemed put off.

"Well, don't _you_ think so?!" Anti-Cosmo demanded.

"Anti-Cosmo. If you _really_ were originally in on H.P.'s plot...then how come you don't seem to know very much about it?"

Anti-Cosmo stared at Wanda very intensely for a few seconds. "...H.P. is a very secretive man," he finally answered.

"Are _you_ a very secretive man?"

"I'm telling you as much as I know, Wanda."

"Are you?"

"Yes," Anti-Cosmo replied stiffly. "I don't suppose there's anything I could do to get you to actually trust me."

Wanda became pensive for a moment. "I don't think so," she finally spoke. "It wouldn't make sense if I trusted you, especially not after everything you've done."

"Fair enough," Anti-Cosmo said. "Trust is a silly thing to hand out. I know." His upper lip curled, and he stared off into space, looking discontent.

Wanda frowned, unsure of what to make of the anti-fairy. Finally, and a long moment, Anti-Cosmo sniffed, lifted his wand, and _ANTI-POOF!_ ed up a floating cup of tea upon a saucer. He took a sip and raised his gaze to the ceiling, haughtily.

"I'm a creature of passion," he said. "Despite my vast intelligence, at times, emotion clouds my judgment. I'm sure you've had a similar experience. Anyway, when H.P. told me about his new plan, he painted pictures of evil nirvana. Ultimate control, endless power, black cats on every street corner as far as the eye could see!" the anti-fairy waxed, looking exhilarated by the thought. "And it all would be ours if I followed H.P.'s instructions—for a short while, and then I'd be given the reigns of my half of our evil empire."

Wanda knitted her brows. "So, what you're saying is, you blindly obeyed H.P. without knowing what you were getting into?"

"No!" Anti-Cosmo insisted, folding his arms petulantly. "I was kicked out of the plan before things excelled far enough."

"So you _wouldn't_ have? Or would you have?"

"H.P. has a way of speaking. You know. You've met him."

"Uh. Yes. It's very...monotone," Wanda gave Anti-Cosmo an odd look, wondering why he made it seem like an important factor.

"I mean he has a way of persuading. That's why he's a formidable businessman and lawyer. That's how he _became_ Head Pixie in the first place. His ability to persuade."

"...Really?" Wanda seemed unconvinced. "I always thought it was because he's bigger than the rest of them. Size-wise. I mean, that's why we put Jorgen in charge of the fairies…"

Anti-Cosmo scoffed. "You fairies and your reliance on brawns over brains! When _will_ you learn?"

"Hey, don't look at me. I wasn't part of that decision-making."

"And who would you appoint leader of the fairies, if you were given a choice?"

Wanda pursed her lips, considering the question thoroughly for a moment.

"Well, I guess Jorgen does an alright job most of the...well... _some_ of the time—"

"You were going to say you," Anti-Cosmo interrupted quickly. "Don't lie to me. You wanted to say you."

"I—have too much responsibility already, I can't run an entire race," Wanda looked at him as if he were insane. "I can hardly get my husband and godson to listen to me, let alone _all of fairykind_."

"Pity you sell yourself short, Wanda. Luckily...or, should I say, _unluckily_ ," he smirked, "I don't. And that's precisely why I, the youngest anti-fairy in existence—that is, before the birth of my unfortunate progeny—was able to overtake the anti-fairies."

"The intelligence isn't as widely spread across the anti-fairies as it is the fairies," Wanda rolled her eyes.

"Be that as it may," Anti-Cosmo blinked slowly, "we're _all_ very much creatures of passion. And aren't you?"

"I never denied that." Wanda seemed tired. "Anyway, if you thought that story would make me trust you, it didn't."

"I don't need your trust. Even without it, you and I hold an important bond." Anti-Cosmo _ANTI-POOF!_ ed up a kettle and began pouring himself another cuppa. He took a sip, and then smiled at her. "And that is, of course: Love! Your life is intertwined with my wife's, and mine with your husband's. Therefore, neither of us can destroy each other, nor do we _want_ to destroy each other—we're instead forced to coexist in this universe in ambivalent acceptance. Our interaction is absolute incompatibility and compatibility at the same time. It's fascinating."

"Is it?" Wanda stared at him through half-lidded eyes.

"Yes. And, like it or not, if worse comes to worst and one of us perishes, we'll be driven to avenge the other's death."

"That escalated quickly."

"I'm just saying. And don't act so cocky. I know what your métier is, Wanda," Anti-Cosmo asserted. "Don't try and fool me. I'm a genius, mind you."

"My 'métier'? What are you talking about?"

"Your superiority complex."

"My superiority complex?!"

"You purposely surround yourself with the stupidest people you can find, just so you'll always reign supreme." Anti-Cosmo cocked his head. "Which is why you don't like me. Because I'm intelligent, and I surpass you in wit. And that makes you uncomfortable."

"I—wha—" Wanda scoffed. "I don't purposely surround myself with people who aren't as smart as me! It's just something that inexplicably ends up happening!…All the time…"

"Admit it, Wanda. It's what drives you. It's why you live the life you do. You love being treated as the 'smart' one. You love being right. And most importantly, you _hate_ the idea of a shift in the power."

"Not true," Wanda spat.

"If you say so. Too bad I'm not stupid enough to believe you."

"You think—Okay—You're—" Wanda scoffed, again. "Being condescending toward me is not a sign of intelligence. It is, however, a sign of being a jerk!"

"Oh, is that what I am?" Anti-Cosmo chuckled. "Well, I'm sorry, Wanda, that you think I'm a jerk."

"Well you should be! I mean, wait, no. You should be sorry for _being_ a…" Wanda pursed her lips, and then spat, "I am not as stupid as you think I am!"

"I never said you were stupid."

"Yeah, but you think I am!"

"What makes you think that I think you're stupid?"

"You—you're just…the way you're talking to me!" Wanda insisted. "Your demeanor! It's all very…patronizing!"

Anti-Cosmo grinned. "And you still think you don't have a superiority complex?"

Wanda felt her face start to burn. She glared at him. "You…really…are something!"

"Why, thank you. I certainly pride myself on it."

"And what about you?" Wanda snapped. "All _you_ ever do is constantly remind everyone that you're a genius who is, lest we forget it, smarter than everyone else! What makes you any better, hmm?"

Anti-Cosmo adjusted his monocle. "Nothing," he replied. "We have more in common than you'd like to believe, Wanda."

"I respectfully disagree," Wanda said sharply. "Now, did you come here for any reason other than to wax poetic and insult me, or are we done here?"

"No, yes, I did!" Anti-Cosmo's smirk immediately turned into a look of almost childlike excitement. "I came to pitch to you some ideas on how we're going to defeat H.P.!"

"Oh, good," Wanda sighed.

Anti-Cosmo _ANTI-POOF!_ ed up a large drawing pad and a pointer rod. He slapped the pad with the pointer, and began to explain: "Behold, 'Operation: P-Bomb'!"

"' _P-Bomb_ '?" Wanda repeated, giving him an incredulous look.

"Yes." Anti-Cosmo lifted his pointer, and the drawing pad magically lifted to reveal the next paper, which was a drawing of the Pixie Headquarters Building. "First, we sneak into Pixie H.Q. after everyone has gone home for the evening."

He flipped the page, revealing a drawing of Anti-Cosmo and Wanda strapping bombs onto desks.

"Then, we strap bombs to each one of the pixie's desks. In the morning, when the pixies arrive for work and are all sat at their cubicles—"

He flipped the page again, revealing a drawing of an exploded building.

"—we set off the bombs, and blow them all to smithereens!"

Wanda looked from the drawing to Anti-Cosmo, a bit slack-jawed. "...nnnnnno," she said.

Anti-Cosmo made a face of slight disappointment, then magicked away the drawing pad. "Alright, fine." He _ANTI-POOF!_ ed a new drawing pad in its place. "Option two, this one you might like. I call it 'Operation: Dumpster Fire.' Now, this plan has two parts: Part One is Dumpster. First, we flood the streets of Pixie World with garbage. Part Two, Fire, we—"

"Anti-Cosmo, I'm not going to terrorize a group of people, especially when I don't have any solid proof they've done anything wrong," Wanda objected. "I mean, all we know that they've done so far is trespass. And trespassing is means for going to jail... _not_ having their entire world destroyed!"

Anti-Cosmo glared at her, _ANTI-POOF!_ ed away his pad and pointer, and folded his arms. "Fine, have it your way for now. But I'll bring you proof. Mark my words, woman."

"Words marked," Wanda rolled her eyes.

"Calling back to our conversation earlier: Did you really think I thought you were stupid? I know your memory isn't that poor. I told you the other night that you're the smartest person I know, aside from myself and H.P., that is…" Anti-Cosmo put a hand to his chin. "Come to think of it, you probably just wanted to hear me say that again, didn't you?"

"Maybe," Wanda said quickly with a smirk, but then cleared her throat and put on a serious face. "Now get out of here, will you? I need to get work done."

"I have to admit, Wanda, I'm surprised by your geniality to me so far," Anti-Cosmo said. He lifted his wand, and it began to sparkle. "This entire time, I could readily sense your distaste...but not once did you drop a trash bag on me." He smirked. "Cheerio."

With an _ANTI-POOF!_ , he was gone, leaving Wanda alone to attempt to process the conversation she had just had. After a few moments, though, she scoffed (again), and began to sort through papers on the desk.

"'Ey, boss?" Wanda's bodyguard cautiously entered the office. "Ya got another visitor."

"No more visitors, Martino!" She immediately snapped and pounded her wand down on the desk angrily. "I already told you that! Do what you're told, or I'll send you to run the business in Vegas instead!"

Martino looked somewhat offended, then shrugged and rolled his eyes. "A'ight, you heard the lady, chooch," he said, addressing the fairy to his right, "the boss is not takin' any visitors at this particular moment in time, so I suggest you scram before we both get turned into pizza pies."

" _Wanda_!" Cosmo screeched, trying to shove his way past the much larger bodyguard. "It's me! You have to let me in!"

"Cosmo?" Wanda's anger transformed into mild irritation. "What are you doing here? Where are Timmy and Poof? I told you you have to look after them."

"That's the thing!" Cosmo shouted. Martino—who was getting bored—let the green-haired fairy enter the office. He flew up to Wanda, and immediately grabbed her by the shirt. He then began to speak, very quickly, "I can't stay with Timmy any longer! He's gonna kill me! He's gonna take Poof to Reno, take _me_ out on the lake, and then have one of his guys off me, and then tell everyone I drowned!"

"Cosmo, what are you even talking about?" Wanda asked in annoyance, pushing his hands away.

"I'm _talking_ about Timmy! He's out to get me!" Cosmo said. "And that's why I can't be around him anymore! I need you to hide me!" He darted underneath the large desk and immediately assumed the fetal position. "Or you could just give me one of your bodyguards! Like Martino!"

"Uhh, _pass_ ," Came Martino's voice from the doorway.

"Cosmo, why do you think Timmy's out to get you?" Wanda asked. "What could you have possibly done?"

"I did a bad thing, Wanda! I did a horrible, terrible, bad thing, I…" He leaned out from under the desk, cupped a hand around his mouth, and whispered fearfully, "... _I betrayed him_."

Wanda still seemed less than convinced. "What did you do?"

"Well, it's a long story. It all started back in Cuba."

"You guys went to Cuba?"

"Yes. That's what I just said! Remy took us there, but Timmy didn't trust him. And then, that's where it got bad. Because Remy...made me an offer...I couldn't refuse."

"Remy? Remy who? Remy Buxaplenty?" Wanda was confused. "Cosmo, you have to start from the beginning of the story."

"I _did_ start from the beginning of the story! _CUBA_!"

FLASHBACK-FLASHBACK-FLASHBACK-FLASHBACK-FLASHBACK-FLASHBACK

On Friday night, Timmy and his parents arrived at Buxaplenty Suites Havana. Timmy's parents were wearing their beach attire and holding their luggage, smiling happily at the hotel in front of them. Timmy was next to them with his fishbowl and his luggage, but he was not smiling.

"I can't believe the Buxaplentys gave us an all-expenses-paid trip to Havana!" Timmy's Dad said.

" _I_ can't believe they let Timmy take his fishbowl onto the airplane!" Timmy's Mom said.

Remy Buxaplenty came out of the hotel to greet them. He held a stupid purple ferret in his arms.

"Welcome to Cuba, Turners. Please, come right in," Remy said while leading them into the lobby. "Our bellboy Roberto will escort you three right to your room."

Timmy's parents cheerfully followed the bellboy up to their room, while Timmy's Dad screamed something about tea and cookies. Meanwhile, Timmy stayed with Remy. As soon as Timmy's parents were totally gone and the lobby was empty, Timmy's two fish turned into their fairy selves, and Remy's ferret turned into his fairy self.

"Don't think for one minute I'm going to let my guard down around you, Buxaplenty," Timmy sounded angry.

"Honestly, Turner, you're so uptight," Remy laughed, but not in a normal happy way. "Perhaps this vacation will be good for you. Good for _all_ of us."

" _Especialmente_ good for my tan!" Juandissimo said stupidly with his stupid ugly dumb face while he flexed his dumb stupid biceps.

PAUSE-FLASHBACK-PAUSE-FLASHBACK-PAUSE-FLASHBACK

"Cosmo," Wanda interrupted, "do you really have to say that _everything_ Juandissimo does is dumb and stup—"

" _Wanda I'm trying to tell a story_!" Cosmo shouted.

RESUME-FLASHBACK-RESUME-FLASHBACK-RESUME-FLASHBACK

Remy led Timmy up to his hotel room, where his parents already were. There was a big bed, a big television, maybe like five lamps, a big window where you could see the entire beach, a microwave, a bed, and at least three lamps.

"This view is breathtaking!" Timmy's Mom said.

"We have a microwave!" Timmy's Dad screamed.

Then some things happened and then everyone was eating tacos for dinner. The tacos were good. Everyone was happy except for Timmy, he barely touched his taco.

"These tacos are really good!" Cosmo tried to tell Timmy.

"I trust no one and nothing," Timmy said dramatically. He started pulling apart his taco because he was afraid Remy had put something in it like poison or anchovies or something.

There was no poison or anchovies in Timmy's taco, but he still wouldn't eat it for some reason. So, someone else ate Timmy's taco instead. But that's a secret.

PAUSE-FLASHBACK-PAUSE-FLASHBACK-PAUSE-FLASHBACK

"Are tacos _actually_ relevant to this story?" Wanda sighed.

"Yes! Very relevant! Now stop interrupting!"

RESUME-FLASHBACK-RESUME-FLASHBACK-RESUME-FLASHBACK

The next morning, it was a beautiful day, and Timmy's parents decided to go to the beach. Timmy came along, but only because he needed to get out of Remy's hotel.

"I'm only coming along because I need to get out of Remy's hotel," Timmy said when he, Cosmo, and Poof got to the beach. "I feel like every waking moment in there is a moment he could come along and...I don't know…"

"Kill you?" Cosmo suggested.

"That's a little extreme, but something like that, essentially."

"It's not that extreme. Remy tried to kill _me_ once," Cosmo reminded him cheerfully as he _POOF!_ ed up a big beach ball and threw it to him.

Timmy caught the beach ball and said, "Good point," while looking very scared.

" _Timmy, look_!" Timmy's Dad yelled. " _I'm hanging ten_!"

Cosmo and Poof turned into hermit crabs. Timmy's Dad was over in the ocean, riding a surfboard and waving wildly at Timmy. Timmy gave him a weird look.

"Dad, look out!" Timmy shouted back.

"Wha— _AAHGGHH_!" Timmy's Dad was suddenly hit by a big tour boat.

" _On your left, you'll see a middle-aged man who thinks he can still pull off tightly-fitted swim briefs_ ," The tour director said over the speaker.

"Ooohhh! Aaahhh!" said the people on the tour boat.

Timmy's Mom was lying in a beach chair holding a reflector thingy. She took off her sunglasses, watched what happened to Timmy's Dad, and then put her sunglasses back on. " _I'm_ going to concentrate on getting a tan," she said. "Somebody flip me over at 12 o' clock!"

Cosmo and Poof turned back to normal. Poof held up a shovel and a bucket.

"Poof-poof?" he said.

"Sure, Poof. Let's build a sandcastle," Timmy said.

"Forgetting something, Turner?"

"Oh, great!" Timmy said, but you could tell he didn't actually think it was great.

Remy Buxaplenty had appeared behind him, holding a bottle of sunscreen and a towel.

"Sunscreen?" Remy asked, offering the bottle to Timmy.

Timmy did not take the sunscreen from him. Instead, he turned around and said, "I'm watching you!" and pointed an angry finger at him.

Then freaking Juandissimo came out of nowhere and held a bunch of drinks in his hands. "I brought piña coladas!" he said sounding really excited and it was bad because then that song about piña coladas was stuck in my head the rest of the day.

"Juandissimo," Remy looked at him like he was annoyed. Probably because that song got stuck in his head too.

" _Qué_? They are virgin, of course!" Juandissimo said, and handed a drink to Remy. "It is far too early to begin drinking! But since we are at the beach, I thought it would be most appropriate."

I don't really know what happened next because I was just thinking about that song. You know that song, right. If you like piña coladas. And getting caught in the rain. If you're not into yoga, if you have half a brain.

PAUSE-FLASHBACK-PAUSE-FLASHBACK-PAUSE-FLASHBACK

"I think you're getting sidetracked, Cosmo—"

" _IF YOU LIKE MAKIN' LOVE AT MIDNIGHT_!" Cosmo shouted.

"You don't have to—"

" _IN THE DUUUUUNES OF THE CAPE_!"

"I _know_ the song!" Wanda rolled her eyes.

"See? It just gets stuck in your head! It's awful!" Cosmo grabbed his head with both hands, looking pained. "Who even _likes_ piña coladas? They taste like feet!"

"I like piña coladas!"

"And getting caught in the rain?"

Wanda shook her head. "Can you please go back to telling the story?"

"Yes! I was _wondering_ when you'd let me," Cosmo huffed.

RESUME-FLASHBACK-RESUME-FLASHBACK-RESUME-FLASHBACK

Anyway, everyone was at the beach and Timmy was mad. I don't know why he was so mad about it because that just meant there were more people to build the sandcastle. You should've seen the sandcastle, Wanda, it was really cool.

Then later Remy was like, "Turner, I know you're feeling one with the ocean, but transforming into a lobster isn't necessary. Oh, right, it's probably because you turned down my sunscreen."

I don't know what Remy was talking about with the lobster thing because Timmy just looked sunburnt to me. He was angry about it. But Remy made a good point though, he _did_ offer Timmy some sunscreen.

Then for lunch we had tacos again. This time Timmy ate his, but I think he was hungry since he hadn't eaten anything since we got there. Not even the free tea and cookies. Wait a minute, I remember I put a pic of the sandcastle on Instafairy. Did you Like it yet? You need to go Like it. Give me your phone.

PAUSE-FLASHBACK-PAUSE-FLASHBACK-PAUSE-FLASHBACK

"Okay, you know what, this is ridiculous," Wanda said, lifting her wand.

"No! It's not!" Cosmo insisted, now frantically flipping through Wanda's phone. "Where is your Instafairy app?!"

A large television with the words FLASHBACK TUBE appeared in front of her and Cosmo. Wanda magicked up a remote in her hand. She pressed a button that said FAST-FORWARD.

Cosmo looked up, noticed what she was doing, and attempted to grab the remote from her. "Wait!" he cried. "Go back to the part with the sandcastle! It was really cool! Like, we put this chandelier in the foyer and some plants—Juandissimo wanted to put in a bearskin rug, but I told him that would be tacky—"

"When did you do it?" Wanda asked, watching the scenes of Timmy and Cosmo's Havana trip fast-forward on the television screen with utter puzzlement.

"Do what?"

"Betray Timmy!"

"Oh. Pfff!" Cosmo snorted. "I don't remember!"

Wanda turned around and looked at him, flabbergasted. Cosmo blinked, and then pointed fiercely at the television.

"There!" Cosmo shouted. "Right there! When Remy and Juandissimo kidnapped me!"

" _Kidnapped_ you?" Wanda paused the television. The screen was oddly dark.

"Yeah! They kidnapped me so that they could talk to me!"

"What _is it_ with people kidnapping each other just to talk to them?" Wanda asked seriously. "Is that just a thing now?"

"I don't know! But play the flashback!" Cosmo had _POOF!_ ed up a bag of popcorn and was stuffing it into his face violently. "This is where it gets good!"

RESUME-FLASHBACK-RESUME-FLASHBACK-RESUME-FLASHBACK

"Aaaaaahhhh!" Cosmo screamed, terrified and unfamiliar with his surroundings. "Where am I?! What's happening?"

"Hello, Cosmo," a nasally voice declared, and Remy Buxaplenty stepped out from the shadows.

Cosmo gasped. "Remy! What's going on? Where am I? I can't remember anything! The last thing I remember I was at a resort in Havana with Timmy and Poof and we were playing COD and I was eating Cheetos—" The fairy shrieked in distress, and grabbed Remy by the shoulders. "My Cheetos are gone! _What have you done with my Cheetos, you fiend_?!"

Remy regarded Cosmo with a look of appall mixed with disgust. "Juandissimo!" He hollered haughtily.

" _Sí_ , _sí_ , I'm on it," Juandissimo's tired-sounding voice rang out behind the two. He waved his wand, and Cosmo was forcefully snapped back into a chair, and a rope constricting him to the seat magically appeared around him.

"Aaaaaaahhhhhhh!" Cosmo screamed, again. "Let go of me! I can't breathe! I can't move! _I can't lick the cheese powder off of my fingers_! _AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH_..."

"I wish he would shut up," Remy pinched the bridge of his nose.

Juandissimo calmly approached the hysterical fairy, and slapped him across the face. This effectively got Cosmo to stop screaming. Juandissimo grinned.

"I have always wanted to do that!" he said cheerfully.

"Listen, you lunatic," Remy began, dusting his white dress coat off, and scrunching up his nose when he noticed the orange fingerprints Cosmo had left all over it, "I'll bring you back to Timmy and Poof in a moment, but I've taken you aside for a very specific reason. And believe it or not, this time it doesn't involve plotting your death."

"My death?!" Cosmo shrieked. "I thought you just wanted my Cheetos! You're gonna kill me?!"

"No, I said it _didn't_ involve your death—"

"May I just say, Remy," Juandissimo held up a finger, "that you are not particularly good at playing things down."

"Can it, Juandissimo! Just shut up, both of you!" Remy snarled. "Let me talk! Cosmo. I know you and I have had some differences in the past…"

"Yeah, like when you stole my Cheetos and tried to kill me?!"

"I didn't steal your Cheetos!" Remy snapped. "For goodness sake—Juandissimo, untie him and give him a bag of Cheetos!"

"Regular, puff, or hot?" Juandissimo asked Cosmo, magicking the rope away.

"Ooh, I love hot Cheetos!" Cosmo exclaimed excitedly.

Juandissimo waved his wand, and _POOF!_ ed a bag of Hot Cheetos into Cosmo's hands.

" _Yay_!" Cosmo cheered.

"Now that we have _that_ issue out of the way—" Remy rolled his eyes, "I need you to listen to me, Cosmo. Timmy...is...my...friend."

Cosmo snorted and he yanked open the bag of Cheetos. "No he's not! I might be stupid, but I'm not that stupid! You guys totally hate each other!"

"No, he is. And I _don't_ hate him. I swear. That's why I invited his family to Havana! I know the fairies are going through some trying times at the moment, what with the pixie resurgence and whatnot—"

"The pixie whosawhat?"

"Oh, don't you know? The pixies are working on some new...seven-week plan," Remy said flippantly, "Could mean the doom of all fairies, who knows. Anyway, I wanted to take this vacation to show Turner that he and I are on the same team," He proceeded to explain calmly. "There is one slight problem, though. It seems Timmy is not so...receptive to my hospitality. He still doesn't trust me, even after all I've done for him."

"What? Like the time you challenged him to a fairy duel, that time you played with his emotions and almost got him to lose me and Wanda, that time you cheated your way through Cupid's scavenger hunt to try and beat him, that time you tricked him into going to military school, not to mention the part where you tried to kill us—" Cosmo spoke with his mouth full, holding up his red-dusted fingers as he recited each item on his list.

"Okay, okay, I haven't been so cordial in the past," Remy held up his hands. "But I can assure you, that juvenile rivalry is behind me! The best thing for Turner and I to do at this point in time is to unite together. You know. For the fairies. For the greater good."

Cosmo narrowed his eyes at the boy, and swallowed his mouthful of Cheetos. Then he burped loudly and wiped his mouth on the back of his sleeve. "Okaaaaay," he said, still sounding very skeptical.

"So," Remy folded his hands together. "That's where I need your help, Cosmo. I need you to help me get Turner to trust me."

"Why? Why should I do that?" Cosmo asked.

"I just _told_ you why you should do it!" Remy growled.

"Yeah, but why should I believe you?"

"Here, I'll make it easier on you. You don't have to do anything, just...tell me something about Turner. Tell me a secret. Something he wouldn't want the general public to know." Remy crossed his arms coolly. "Not that I'd use this secret against him or anything...I'm just curious, you know. I'd like to be able to relate to Turner in a way that no one else can."

"Wellllllll…" Cosmo appeared to be thoughtful for a moment. Appeared to be. "There is _something_ I could tell you about Timmy, but...I'm not just gonna _tell_ you it. Because I promised I wouldn't tell anyone. And I especially wouldn't tell a Cheeto-thief!"

"I thought we already established he did not steal the Cheetos," Juandissimo pointed out.

"Shut up, Juandissimo! And give me more Cheetos!" Cosmo demanded. "I want cheese puffs this time!"

Juandissimo _POOF!_ ed up a bag of Cheeto cheese puffs, tossed them to Cosmo, and then immediately seemed confused by his own actions. "Wait a minute—why am I still taking orders from you?!"

"What if I offered you something in return for this knowledge?" Remy proposed to the green-haired fairy.

" _Ha_!" Cosmo laughed. "Little Richie Rich here thinks he can buy me out! _Not_ today, Remy! No amount of money in this world could make me sell out Timmy!"

"I'll give you this quarter," Remy offered offhandedly, pulling the twenty-five cent coin out of his pocket.

Cosmo immediately stopped laughing, taken aback by the object the boy held up between his fingers, and he dropped his bag of Cheetos.

END-FLASHBACK-END-FLASHBACK-END-FLASHBACK-END-FLASHBACK-END-FLASHBACK-END-FLASHBACK

Wanda slapped her forehead. "You sold our godson out _FOR A QUARTER_?!"

"A _shiiiny_ quarter..." Cosmo hissed defensively through gritted teeth. His wand sparkled, and the quarter in question appeared in his hand. "I named her Georgina. Problem is, she doesn't play well with other coins. _And_ she's a cover-hog..."

"How could you trust Remy?!" Wanda snapped. "He's a little boy made up of pure evil!"

"I don't know!" Cosmo cried. "I regret it! I regret everything! Now you understand why I can't go back! I can't face Timmy! I sold him out, Wanda! And he's gonna kill me!"

"He's not going to kill you, Cosmo," Wanda sighed. "I mean, on one hand...he can't. You're a fairy. You're immortal."

"Who are you trying to fool, Wanda?!" Cosmo shouted wildly. "You of all people should know that that's not entirely tru— _ack_!"

Wanda had haphazardly yanked the fairy out from under her desk by his necktie, effectively choking him out of finishing his sentence. She pulled him up to eye level and looked at him sternly, and he could only respond with a look of absolute terror.

She rolled her eyes and released him, then took a moment to think. "The only thing you can do at this point is damage control. Now, I have a suggestion; humor me here...this is just a suggestion: Why don't you go to Timmy and tell him the truth?"

"The truth?!" Cosmo exclaimed. "I can't tell Timmy the truth! _He can't handle the truth_!"

"I feel like he ca—"

"I run my unit how I run my unit! You want to investigate me, roll the dice and take your chances! I eat breakfast three hundred yards from four thousand Cubans who are trained to kill me!"

"Cosmo, please stop quoting _A Few Good Men_ —"

"Right, sorry," Cosmo looked down at his feet. "I forgot what movie we were trying to parody. The 'Cuba' thing threw me off."

Wanda removed her fedora and rubbed her head. "It's not like Timmy's going to be that surprised, you know. He already knows you're an impulsive idiot who doesn't think his actions through before he acts upon them. Or...just...doesn't think anything through...ever...at all..."

"Wanda, I'm scared!"

"Cosmo, he's _Timmy_. You're blowing this way out of proportion."

"No, not about Timmy...well, I mean, yes, I'm afraid of Timmy, but I'm talking about this...whole...thing!" He gestured wildly to the room around him. "What is going on? When's Big Daddy getting out of jail? Are you gonna be here forever? Are the pixies really gonna doom everything? Are they gonna take over Fairy World again? Because I don't want them to take over Fairy World again! It wasn't fun the first time! In fact, it was really, reeeeeeeeeeeeeally boring! I had to wash dishes for days! It was like they'd never heard of a dishwasher! They're such tiny creatures, but they...eat... _so_... _much_ …" He winced at the memory. Then he looked back at Wanda with a frown. "And the worst part of it all was, I had to be away from you!"

Wanda's heart fluttered, and her feelings of frustration relented. "Sweetheart, I don't know the answers to all those questions. But I swear to you, as long as I'm in charge, the pixies will never win, and you and I will never be forcefully separated again. Trust me. You know what happens when I'm given any amount of control. I make a lot of use out of it."

"You _do_ become a huuuuuuge unstoppable control freak," Cosmo vouched.

"You bet I do!" Wanda responded gleefully, prideful of Cosmo's accusation. She leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek. Cosmo blushed and momentarily smiled, but his expression quickly returned to one of unease.

"But..." Cosmo gingerly held the quarter in front of his chest. "Georgina says, and I agree, that I should hide under your desk and definitely not tell Timmy the truth or confront the problem head-on at all. I'm sorry, Wanda, but Georgina is a very level-headed individual, and I'm apt to do what she says."

Wanda grabbed Cosmo by the shoulders and shook him violently. "Act like a man, Cosmo! Stop hiding behind your stupid coin collection! Tell Timmy what you did!"

"I can't!" Cosmo sobbed, but then looked hopeful. "You know, maybe if I'm lucky, he'll never find out."

"Okay, I know what you said, boss," Martino held up his hands as he re-entered the room, looking hesitant, "but you got another visitor and this one's a little more—"

" _ **COSMO**_!" Timmy screamed, running into the room. He glared intensely at his fairy godfather, his fists balled, and his entire being seething with rage.

Cosmo looked at Timmy, paled, and then looked back at Wanda. Cosmo cupped his hand toward her and whispered, "...Do you think he knows?"


	4. Revenge Is a Dish Best Served Salty

Poof popped out from behind the seething Timmy. He gave his godbrother an apprehensive glance, before exclaiming, "Mama!" and rushing up to embrace his mother.

"Poof, sweetie!" Wanda hugged him back. "How are you?"

"Poof-poof," Poof replied in a casual tone with a shrug. Then he gestured to Timmy and made the cuckoo sign.

" _YOU TOLD REMY MY SECRET_?!" Timmy shrieked at Cosmo.

"Okay, well, first off, Timmy," The green-haired fairy was now huddling behind Wanda, twiddling his thumbs, "there is _no_ need to yell—"

" _WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT, COSMO_?! _HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME_?!"

"Can I just say," Cosmo scoffed, "that I went to Havana to have a good time, and I'm honestly feeling so attacked right now—"

"Do you realize the severity of the situation you've put me in right now? That you've put _all of us_ in?! Do you know how dangerous it is that Remy knows what he knows now?" Timmy was practically foaming at the mouth. "Oh, no, of course you don't. You're Cosmo! You don't understand anything! You're just stupid, and untrustworthy, and...and... _STUPID_!"

"Alright, alright, hold on one second," Wanda cocked her brow, "Forgive me for interrupting your blind rage, Timmy, but what exactly is this 'dangerous' secret?"

Timmy looked at Wanda and opened his mouth to tell her, but the doors of the office suddenly flew open again.

"Splendid news, Wanda!" Anti-Cosmo declared, pointing a finger in the air defiantly. "I know exactly how to prove to you that the pixies are behind this!"

" _Anti-meeeee_!" Cosmo yelped in terror.

"Oh, great!" Timmy groaned. " _This_ guy!"

"Hello, cretins!" Anti-Cosmo greeted, sounding gleefully contemptuous. "Fancy seeing you three here."

"Don't get any closer!" Cosmo grabbed Wanda and wielded her in a way similar to how a person would hold a bazooka. "I have all the nag in the world and I'm not afraid to use it!"

"Cosmo, let go of me!" Wanda demanded. "I told you I've been talking to him!"

"Conspiring, if you will!" Anti-Cosmo offered with a smarmy grin.

"So...you were serious when you told us that, Wanda?" Timmy folded his arms, suspect of the anti-fairy and fairy. "Like, that _wasn't_ just a joke?"

"Make no mistake, Turner, I do not tell jokes," Anti-Cosmo said. "Not funny ones, at least. For example: Knock, knock."

"Um. Who's there?"

"To."

"To who?"

"To _whom_!" Anti-Cosmo announced. "See? That wasn't a joke, I was merely correcting your grammar."

Timmy stared at Anti-Cosmo for a while, stupefied, and then gave Wanda a side-eye. Wanda shrugged and rolled her eyes.

"I don't get it," Cosmo frowned.

"Shut up, you idiot!" Both Timmy and Anti-Cosmo shouted in unison.

"You have something to tell me, Anti-Cosmo?" Wanda sighed.

"I do. But common sense tells me that I should come back at a later time to provide you with details," Anti-Cosmo said. "It appears to me that there is a lot of tension in this room of which I would rather not become a part. I shall return shortly."

He tipped his hat to the fairy woman, and then _ANTI-POOF!_ ed off.

"What?" Timmy glanced at Wanda suspiciously. "What does he want to tell you that he can't say in front of us?"

"Yeah!" Cosmo agreed. "He thinks he's so cool with his freaking...hat...and...snooty accent!"

"Don't agree with me, Cosmo! I'm mad at you!"

"Yeah? Well, I'm mad at you!"

"Why are you mad at me? _You're_ the one who betrayed me!"

"Well _you're_ the one who…is yelling!"

"You're yelling too!"

"You started yelling first!"

"I started yelling first because you made me start yelling first!"

"Wait!" Cosmo pleaded. "Why are we yelling again? I forgot."

" _We're yelling because you sold me out to Remy for...for…_ "

"A quarter?" Cosmo _POOF!_ ed up Georgina.

" ** _A QUARTER_**!"

"Oh, right," Cosmo lowered the coin and put a hand to his chin, "that's why we were yelling."

"You know, it's funny, Wanda!" Timmy threw his arms into the air. "I don't think you should trust Anti-Cosmo...but at the same time, I _know_ you can't trust _him_ ," he pointed at Cosmo. "So I guess we're at an impasse here! At this point, anything goes!"

"Don't I know," Wanda muttered.

"Timmy, I'm sorry!" Cosmo shrieked. He floated over to him, hugging his quarter tightly. "I have weaknesses! I mean, what was I supposed to do? _Not_ tell Remy your deepest and darkest secret after he offered me this perfect, immaculate, shiiiiny quarter?!"

" _Yes_! That is exactly what you were supposed to do!" Timmy snapped. "Listen, Cosmo, I know you're not that smart of a person, but I thought you were my friend first and foremost! But I guess it's my fault for being naive enough to trust you with anything, isn't it?" He glowered. "Rest assured, _that_ won't ever happen again!"

Cosmo's bottom lip quivered, and he glared at Timmy. "So...so what are you saying? You don't want me around anymore? Because if you don't want me around anymore, then why don't you just say so!"

"Okay," Timmy glared back at him, "I will. Get out of my face!"

Cosmo looked momentarily surprised. "Oh, okay, so, you actually don't...that's fine. _That's fine_! I don't need you!" He held up his quarter in the air. " _I HAVE GEORGINA_! And _we're LEAVING_!"

"Good! Me and Poof are leaving too!"

" _FINE_!" Cosmo screeched, lifting up his wand and _POOF!_ ing away.

" _FINE_!" Timmy yelled. "Poof!"

Poof shook his rattle, and in an instant, he and Timmy both disappeared.

After a moment, Wanda—who was now alone in the room—threw her hands up in annoyance.

"Doesn't anybody say goodbye anymore?!"

* * *

One _POOF!_ and a cloud of magic smoke later, Timmy and Poof appeared in the former's bedroom. Timmy's sock drawer was slightly ajar. He fixed the problem by slamming it shut so violently, Poof was surprised the entire dresser didn't go through the wall.

"Poof-poof," Poof said antsily.

"You know what we have to do now, don't you, Poof?" Timmy turned to look at his godbrother with a fire in his eyes. "There's only one thing we can do in a situation like this!"

Poof hesitated, then _POOF!_ ed up a CD case labelled 'Guided Meditation' and offered it to the boy. "Poof-poof?"

"No!" Timmy slapped the CD away. "I was talking about getting _REVENGE_!" Timmy began to cackle insanely, " _REVEEEEENGGGGGE_! _Muahahahahaha_!"

Poof grimaced and slowly backed away from the hysterical boy. "Poof-poof?"

"I'm going to get revenge on everyone! Revenge on Cosmo, for betraying me, revenge on Remy, for taking my—"

"Poof-poof," Poof shook his head, pursed his lips, and gave Timmy a very stern look.

"Poof! Don't give me that look! It's bad enough when your mother does it!"

Poof folded his arms and did not let up. Timmy gave an exasperated sigh.

"Well do you really just expect me to sit here and not do anything about it?" He snapped.

Poof _POOF!_ ed up a couple of dolls. He mimed the first doll—which looked a lot like an angry Timmy—yelling at the second doll, which looked a lot like Cosmo cowering behind a quarter. Then, he _POOF!_ ed the Cosmo doll away.

"Okay, fine, I yelled at Cosmo and told him to get out of my face. But what? I'm still angry."

Poof re- _POOF!_ ed up the 'Guided Meditation' CD.

"You've got a real great sense of humor, Poof, you know that?"

A loud _POOF!_ that honestly sounded more like a _BOOM!_ sounded a few feet away from Timmy and Poof.

"Timmy Turner!" Jorgen von Strangle bellowed.

"What do you want, Jorgen?!" Timmy snapped.

Jorgen held up his hands, alarmed by the boy's disposition. "Hey, hey! No need to get snippy with me! I am only here on account of the Millennial Fairy Census," he _POOF!_ ed up a giant clipboard and pen. "Get it? 'Account'! It's a pun! Ha ha! Ha!"

"The what?"

"The Millennial Fairy Census. Every thousand years, the Fairy Council relies on me and several other census takers to visit each fairy-dwelling household in order to count and assess the fairy population."

"You count the fairies every thousand years? But...hasn't there not been a new fairy born in, like, ten thousand? And aren't fairies immortal? What's the point?"

Jorgen ignored Timmy's questions, turned to Poof, and asked, "How many fairies are living in this household?"

"Poof-poof-poof," Poof held up three fingers.

"Two adults, one infant. Which is _different_ from last millennium!" Jorgen pointed out to Timmy as he scribbled furiously onto his clipboard. "These changes are exactly why we take it every thousand years!"

"You knew that Poof was the only baby born!" Timmy exclaimed incredulously. "You could've just added one to your total from last millennium!"

"What is it with you godchildren and taking shortcuts?" Jorgen huffed. "Anyway, it's important I do this now, before things get ugly. I can see ugliness on the horizon. It's like a sunrise, except full of doom and misery. Which, normally, I'd be excited for, especially if the doom and misery is directed toward puny morons who bother me, but since my job is to _protect_ the fairies, I cannot, with sound conscience, allow myself to indulge in—"

"What are you even talking about?" Timmy interrupted.

Jorgen blinked, looking at Timmy oddly, as if he were surprised that the boy was even there.

"What? I wasn't talking about anything," Jorgen said quickly.

"You said there was doom on the horizon."

"I didn't say anything like that."

"Yeah...you did. Didn't he, Poof?"

"Poof-poof," Poof agreed with Timmy.

"I've said too much!" Jorgen announced, holding the clipboard in front of his face. "Thank you providing information for this millennium's census," he spoke as though he were reciting something, and _POOF!_ ed up a bowl full of mints, "please help yourself to a complimentary mint, I will now depart—"

"Jorgen, do you know something that we don't know?" Timmy inquired testily.

"I know plenty of things you don't know," Jorgen replied sharply. Suddenly, he became suspicious. "What _I_ want to know is, why are you two here alone? I know Wanda is in Fairy World, but where is Cosmo?"

Timmy scoffed. "Beats me."

"So, you two are just...unsupervised? Is that safe?"

"Probably not, but do you think it'd be safer if Cosmo _were_ here?"

"Fair enough." Jorgen frowned. "Let's hope for the sake of Fairy World that Big Daddy gets back to running things before the ugly stuff has a chance to happen."

Timmy rolled his eyes, initially comprehending Jorgen's comment as an insult reflecting on he, Poof, and Cosmo's general recklessness, but...after considering Jorgen's choice of words for a few seconds, he became confused. "Wait, what does Big Daddy have to do with anything? Are you accusing _me_ of being the one to start the so-called 'ugly stuff,' or...are you talking about someone else?"

"Ugly stuff, what ugly stuff? I'm not accusing anyone of anything. Especially not ugly stuff."

"You literally just said 'ugly stuff.'"

"I don't recall saying that."

"This conversation is going nowhere," Timmy facepalmed.

"And so the feeling is mutual! You two have wasted my time long enough!" Jorgen exclaimed. "I must be on my way to the next house! Goodbye, and good luck!"

Jorgen pounded his wand on the ground, and in a _POOF!_ he was gone.

"I wish Jorgen was back," Timmy requested simply.

Poof shook his rattle.

The giant fairy reappeared in the room, looking disoriented.

"Argh! Why am I back here?!" he looked at Timmy and Poof, with a look of anger, which quickly transformed into concern, and he re- _POOF!_ ed up his bowl of mints. "Did you two want a mint?"

"No!" Timmy pushed away Jorgen's bowl. "Explain yourself, Jorgen! Stop talking cryptically and tell me what's going on! Why is there doom on the horizon?"

"Foolish Turner! You know not what you ask me to explain! There are things a human godchild should not know!" Jorgen's face became stony, "There are things not even _I_ should know…there are things that I yearn to forget...there are things—"

"Cut the dramatic act, Jorgen," You could almost hear the record scratch as Timmy interrupted him. "Just tell me!"

"I do not serve you, Turner! I will not, under any circumstances, tell you the secrets of the fairies—"

"I wish Jorgen'd tell me," Timmy ordered lazily.

"Poof-poof!" Poof exclaimed gleefully as he shot a beam of magic at Jorgen's face.

Jorgen blinked, rubbing the magical smoke out of his eyes. " _Dang it_! Alright, I will tell you a...story. But be warned: You will not like this story. And also, because there are children present, I will be telling the G-rated version...and I will be using puppets."

He _POOF!_ ed up two puppets that looked very similar to Big Daddy and H.P.

"Once upon a time, thousands and thousands of years ago, in a kingdom far, far away, there lived a trashman named Big Daddy. Big Daddy lived in a glorious garbage palace, spending his days taking out the trash, literally _and_ figuratively, while running the biggest, bestest waste management company in all the land. Truly, his stinky magic skills were beyond compare. However, in another, less nice kingdom, there lived a big, dumb, pointy-headed freak named Head Pixie. Head Pixie decided that he wanted to start his own trash business. Big Daddy didn't like it. So he said—"

Jorgen proceeded to do an unfitting, high-pitched voice for the Big Daddy puppet.

"—'H.P., H.P., close your silly trash business!'...not exactly in those words, but as I established earlier, this is a child-friendly telling of the story. Anyway, H.P. didn't want to close his business. He thought his business was better than Big Daddy's, so he said—"

Jorgen attempted to imitate the droll tone of a pixie.

"'Not by the hair of my chinny-chin-chin!'" He paused. "Well, no, H.P. wouldn't say that, I guess it would be more like…'Not by the point of my pointy-point...point…I'm a stupid, boring pixie, waaaahhh...'"

"Jorgen!"

"Anyway," Jorgen cleared his throat, "Big Daddy didn't like what he said." Again, Jorgen assumed the high-pitched voice for Big Daddy's part. "'Nobody challenges Big Daddy!' So he huffed, and he puffed, and he bleeeeew the pixie's business away!"

Jorgen flicked his wrist, flinging the H.P. puppet across the room. Then, two seconds later, he re- _POOF!_ ed the puppet back onto his hand.

"Buuuuut the pixies didn't like this, so they decided to fight back." Jorgen began to hit the two puppets together. "Stinky magic versus stinky magic! It was a battle of grand proportions! It went on for years and years, until one day...the pixies...took it _too far_!"

"What did they do?"

" _SSHHHH DO NOT INTERRUPT MY STORY, TURNER_! _I'm on a roll_! The pixies took it too far, but instead of retaliating, for _once_ in his garbage-wielding life, Big Daddy was the better man. He said, 'H.P., H.P., things have gone too far. We need to put an end to this war once and for all.' H.P. said, 'I agree Big Daddy, things have gone too far,' and the two finally came to a truce. So, ever since then, the pixies have run their own garbage business, with no interference from Fairy World Garbage Incorporated, under the condition that they never try to overstep their boundaries again. And they never have. Until…"

"Until what?"

"Well, until now. The pixies are up to something," Jorgen asserted. "Whether or not it has anything to do with Garbage Inc. and its sudden new management, one can only speculate."

"So...I'm sorry, but what am I supposed to take from this? Just the knowledge that there was...a big fight over garbage thousands of years ago?"

"Basically, yes."

"That's freaking stupid."

"See, I told you you wouldn't like the story," Jorgen huffed.

"I just don't understand how any of this is relevant. Are you saying that now that Big Daddy's in jail, the pixies are going to...try to overtake the Fairy World garbage business? Why does it matter so much?"

"Oh, it doesn't matter. Not to me," Jorgen said. "But your fairy godmother might have a different opinion."

"I wished for you to explain to me why there was doom on the horizon, not for you to tell me a _literal_ garbage story," Timmy sounded exasperated.

"I answered your question, Turner! You must read between the lines! This has been a lesson in listening comprehension! The doom does not lie solely in the pixies or in garbage, it lies in…"

"...me?" Timmy sighed, sounding very tired.

"No!" Jorgen snapped. "Good grief, Turner, do you _really_ think everything is about you _all the time_? That you're the only one who ever does stuff around here that's important? You think you're the main character in some zany, fast-paced television show? Because no one would ever watch that, it wouldn't even last a season—"

"Alright, well, this has all been very insightful, _not_ ," Timmy announced in a sardonic tone. "So thank you, Jorgen. You can leave now."

"I don't need your permission to leave! I am Jorgen von Strangle, toughest fairy in the universe!" An alarm went off on Jorgen's watch. "And it's time for me to take my fifteen! Goodbye, morons!"

In a massive _POOF!_ , the large fairy had left once again.

Timmy glanced at Poof, and Poof glanced at him.

"It's happened, Poof," Timmy said to him in a very grave tone. "Jorgen's finally lost it."

"Poof-poof," Poof yawned in agreement.

"Yeah, you're right, it's probably time for a nap."

* * *

"Wanda!" Exclaimed a large, bald man with scars on his face, wielding a giant butcher knife in one hand and a meat cleaver in the other. He raised both items high in the air, and swiftly swung his arms downward...to give Wanda a hug, of course. "How are ya, baby? You lookin'-a so bella!"

"Franco! I'm doing wonderful," Wanda replied cheerfully. "And yourself?"

"Never been better, the business has never been better!" He _POOF!_ ed away both of his meat-beating instruments and replaced them with a pen and a waiter's pad. "On behalf'a me, welcome to Frankie's Steakhouse, Home of the Cracked Ribs. Today's specials are the veal, and a very exotic meat we got fresh in today, a...prized stallion roast. It's a, uh, good meal for the _head_ , if you know what I mean…"

"One of your specials is _horse meat_?" Wanda asked, looking repulsed.

"Hey, a butcher's gotta make a livin'," Franco shrugged.

"I'll have the veal," Anti-Cosmo said without flinching.

Franco scribbled the order down on his waiter pad, and then glanced at Wanda. "And for you, doll?"

"Uh," Wanda shook her head. "Ribeye, medium-rare."

"Sho' thing." Franco _POOF!_ ed away his waiter pad, and then _POOF!_ ed away himself in a _CHE BUONO!_ cloud.

Wanda glanced over at the anti-fairy sitting beside her. "Why are we here again?"

"This restaurant serves unlimited breadsticks," Anti-Cosmo replied, lifting one from the basket on the table.

"No, really. What are we doing here?"

"Well, after our discussion yesterday, you made it clear I needed to prove to you that the pixies are in the midst of a diabolical plan and that they were the ones who got Big Daddy sent to jail. So, I decided there was no point in dilly-dallying, and I went directly to Pixie H.Q. to talk to H.P. myself."

"And? How did that go?"

"Surprisingly tolerable. Thankfully, we're both well spoken men, first and foremost. We discussed discord for a short while, and then he invited you and I to dinner."

'Discussed discord,' Wanda decided, was the most hoity-toity way of saying 'had an argument' that she'd ever heard. "And why in the world would he do that?"

"Evidently, he has a business proposition for you." He _ANTI-POOF!_ ed up a cuppa. "Now, I won't tell you what to do, Wanda, but before you consider any of his offers, I will advise you to take caution. I, for one, believe you shouldn't trust a word out of that man's mouth." He took a sip of his tea. "But that's none of my business…"

Wanda took a brief moment to reflect on the fact that the anti-fairy had brought his own drink to a restaurant. Then, she glared at him. "Well, of course I won't!" she scoffed. "I'd never go into business with H.P.! That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. It'd betray both my family and my...species!"

"You're associating with _me_ , and we're not the same species," Anti-Cosmo pointed out.

"Yeah, but we're not business partners. We're just. Uh." Wanda paused. "What exactly was this, again?"

"Comradery?"

"That sounds too chivalrous."

"Partners in crime?"

"Now you're overselling it."

"In any case, I acknowledge that you believe you'd never take a deal from him. But I beg of you, do not underestimate H.P. That man is a schmoozer. A nefarious, conniving schmoozer!"

Wanda cocked her brow at him. She wasn't entirely sure she and he were thinking of the same person. "Anti-Cosmo...call me crazy, but...the way you keep talking about H.P. makes me feel like...you might have a slight...infa—"

A pair of _PING!_ s sounded beside the two. H.P. and Sanderson had appeared, looking very much the same as always—business attire and stoic stares.

"Wanda. Anti-Cosmo. Good evening." H.P. said. "I hope you don't mind that I've brought my associate, Sanderson, with me."

"Hello," Sanderson said.

"Hi," and "Hellooooo H.P.," Wanda and Anti-Cosmo respectively greeted, awkwardly, at the same time.

Franco immediately appeared beside the table again. "Can I get yous anything to drink?"

"Just water for me, thank you," Sanderson said.

"Water, no ice," H.P. said.

Anti-Cosmo elbowed Wanda under the table.

"Ow!" She exclaimed. "What?"

" _Hush_!" Anti-Cosmo hissed.

Wanda stared at him, perplexed. "I didn't say anyth—"

" _Shhhhhhhh_!"

"So, Wanda," H.P. began, taking a (floating) seat across from the fairy and anti-fairy. "Anti-Cosmo has informed me that you're currently running the Fairy World garbage business while your father is incarcerated."

"Correct," Wanda replied.

"My condolences on your father's arrest," H.P. said.

"Our prayers go out to him," Sanderson added.

"Yeah, well...he's just in jail," Wanda gave them an odd look. "He's in fine health. You don't have to worry about him too much. I'm sure he'll be out of there and back to slinging garbage in no time."

"One can only hope," H.P. said. "Anti-Cosmo also told me that you and he were now working together. A sort of 'comradery,' as he put it."

"Once again, I think 'comradery' is a bit of a generous term—"

"Yes, it appears that that is the predicament we're in," Anti-Cosmo interjected. "I recall a short while ago that there was a time when you and I worked together. But, I suppose there are no true friends in war, are there?"

"I suppose. But I wouldn't call this a war. Rather, a part of nature. If only anti-fairies didn't so adamantly prioritize chaos and revelry above all else, we could've lived in harmony," H.P. adjusted his glasses, "Or at least, in an orderly fashion."

"It is rather unfortunate that you and I couldn't settle our differences and continue working together, H.P.," Anti-Cosmo continued. "Quite the shame, really."

"Perhaps. But I believe Sanderson and I have been faring just fine," H.P. glanced at his crony. "Haven't we?"

"Yes," Sanderson said.

Franco reappeared at the table. "Waters for them pointy-headed freaks!" He deposited the drinks on the table. "Yous need more time to look over the menu?"

"Just a caprese salad, please," H.P. requested. "Oil on the side."

"I'll have what he's having," Sanderson said.

"Aiight, whatever you pixies say," Franco shrugged and _POOF!_ ed away.

"You know, Wanda and I are doing just fine as well," Anti-Cosmo said suddenly. "Aren't we, Wanda?"

"We're what?" Wanda had spaced out for several seconds.

"We make a great partnership, Wanda and I," Anti-Cosmo continued.

"That reminds me," H.P. said, turning to Wanda. "Wanda, I'd like to—"

"Perhaps it has to do with our genetic makeup," Anti-Cosmo interrupted. "Fairies and anti-fairies—so opposite, and yet, so similar. More similar than a pixie to an anti-fairy, indubitably!" He cackled.

"What?" Wanda said again.

"Indubitably. In any case, the reason I invited you two to—" H.P. began again.

...Before being abruptly interrupted by Anti-Cosmo, again. "It's only natural that she and I would work together and make such a fantastic duo," he said confidently. "Unlike anything this universe has seen yet. _Much_ better than the duo you and I made!"

"I'm happy for you, A.C.," H.P. droned.

"You don't sound happy!" Anti-Cosmo snarled eagerly.

"That's just my voice."

"Dinner is served!" Franco declared as he returned, delivering four platters to the eclectic assortment of diners. " _Buon appetito_!"

"Thank you, Franco," Wanda said.

"So," H.P. said. "As I was saying. It's come to my attention that—"

"You know, H.P., Wanda and I have been doing a _lot_ of scheming," Anti-Cosmo stated.

"Oh, good grief," Wanda facepalmed.

"Planning world domination and the like, of course," Anti-Cosmo continued casually, swinging a forkful of meat around, "and we've come up with some _exquisite_ ideas— _much_ greater and more likely to succeed than anything you and I ever came up with," he scoffed. "Just for your information. In case you were wondering."

"Have you really?" H.P. said.

"What? No, Anti-Cosmo, we've never done any of that!" Wanda looked at the anti-fairy incredulously, "I'm not interested in taking over the world. What are you talking abo—"

"Wanda, may I speak to you in private?!" Anti-Cosmo barked. "If you'll excuse us, gentlemen."

Anti-Cosmo lifted his wand, and had immediately _ANTI-POOF!_ ed him and Wanda into the corner of the dining room. Wanda blinked a few times, attempting to come to grips with her new location in the room.

"Hey! I was eating!" Wanda exclaimed in annoyance.

"Wanda!" Anti-Cosmo snapped. "Could you _please_ act calm for one minute?"

" _Me_ , act calm?! You're the one over there going on and on about how much better you are without H.P.—which, by the way, at this point, I'm _not_ sure what the nature of your relationship was, and I'm kind of questioning it, but in any case, you _don't_ seem like you're over him!"

" _BUSINESS_!" Anti-Cosmo screeched defiantly. "We were business partners! Our relationship was strictly business! And this is all part of my strategy!"

"Your strategy for what?"

"For getting him to confess to us that he's got an evil plan right now! We need to make H.P. feel inferior! Like you and I get on a lot better than he and I ever did!" Anti-Cosmo explained, and then added quickly, "And, also...that we're better and smarter than him in every way."

"Why do we need to do that?"

"Stop asking questions!"

"Why don't we just listen to his proposition and make a judgment from there?"

"I said stop asking questions! Just do as I say, would you?!"

"No! Listen, you maniac, you need to listen to what I say and do as I say, because at this point, you're just making a fool of yourself!"

* * *

As Wanda and Anti-Cosmo continued to bicker in the corner, H.P. and Sanderson proceeded to eat their meal in silence.

That was, until Sanderson asked, "Have you ever had the alfredo here?"

"Yes," H.P. replied. "It's decent, but nothing in comparison to your homemade, Sanderson."

"That's what I figured," Sanderson said.

"Always looking for an opportunity for an ego boost, aren't you?"

"I am, sir."

* * *

"You said everything was strictly business between you and H.P., right?" Wanda clarified. "H.P. invited us here for a specific, _business-related_ reason. Let's just hear what he has to say, and then see where to go from there. The point is to keep the night _strictly business_. I will handle things, you just be quiet. Which means don't interrupt! And definitely don't start yelling about us being an evil team or whatever!"

"Wanda, has anyone ever told you how skilled you are at persistent scolding and fault-finding? There's a word for that, I believe, but it escapes me at this moment."

"Let's just get back to the table!" Wanda snapped.

Wanda and Anti-Cosmo returned to the table. Neither H.P. nor Sanderson reacted. Wanda cleared her throat.

"Okay, so," she began, "H.P., Anti-Cosmo has told me that you've invited both of us here to this _business_ dinner, because you have a _business_ proposition, for my family's _business_."

"Yes, this is true," H.P. said. "I'm surprised Anti-Cosmo got something right for once."

" _WHAT'S THAT SUPPOSED TO MEA—OW_!" Anti-Cosmo gave an abrupt shriek after Wanda violently elbowed him in the ribcage.

"I'd like to hear it," Wanda said, quickly folding her hands upon the table.

"Fantastic," H.P. said dryly. He gestured to Sanderson, who _PING!_ ed up an infographic entitled, **GARBAGE (AND YOU) IN THE TWENTY-FIRST CENTURY**.

"Oh, _this_ is going to be riveting," Anti-Cosmo declared sarcastically.

"As you know, we pixies have our own, separate branch of stinky magic dealings, Pixie Refuse Incorporated. Due to an agreement made long ago, our business has been confined to pixie territory only, and we have been prohibited from expanding our waste management services further."

Sanderson _PING!_ ed up a rolled paper. The paper unravelled, revealing a contract with lots of words in a very tiny text. At the bottom of the contract was Big Daddy's signature, and underneath his signature was H.P.'s.

"This contract," H.P. gestured, "was what made that agreement official, and it was signed and dated by your father, me, and the Fairy Council over ten thousand years ago. However…"

He plucked the contract out of the air and pointed at a section of the text.

"...if you read this agreement closely, you will see that, in section E, subsection V, Article I, Clause 3, it states: 'This contract is legally binding until further notice for the proceeding ten millennia.'"

H.P. handed the contract to Wanda. She and Anti-Cosmo squinted at the small text. Anti-Cosmo twisted his monocle as if it were a microscope.

"He's correct," Anti-Cosmo said. "It does say that, right there."

"As I established earlier, it has been over ten millennia since this was signed, which means this contract is no longer valid. Now, normally, I would be asking Big Daddy to define a new, updated agreement, but because he is incarcerated, it seems that you're the one up for the responsibility, Wanda."

"Interesting," Wanda said. "So, do you have a new contract for me to sign?"

"Not yet. Sanderson and I were hoping you'd be willing to revise a few things beforehand."

"Like what?"

"Like our receptacle laws," H.P. said. He pointed to another section of the document. "'A thirty-two foot diameter must be maintained between all garbage receptacles at all times, no exceptions.' That's a bit of a frivolous law, don't you think?"

"I...guess…that is oddly specific, yes."

"We also have a section entirely dedicated to the proper disposal of Nokia cell phones, which hardly seems relevant anymore, now that we've all upgraded to Samsung Galaxy Notes." H.P. lifted his cell phone, and so did Sanderson.

"Okaaay…"

"Furthermore," H.P. said, "we'd like to extend to you a new partnership offer."

" _AHA_! _I KNEW IT_! _I kn—fff_!" Anti-Cosmo's excitement was quickly cut off when Wanda _POOF!_ ed his mouth into a zipper.

"Thank you for that," H.P. nodded toward the silenced anti-fairy. "As you're probably aware, Wanda, over ten thousand years ago, I offered to go into business with your father. He adamantly refused, without so much as to hearing me out—which is why the pixies ended up establishing their own, separate garbage company. And in that competition is where things began to escalate into violence."

"Mmmmmmm!" Anti-Cosmo threw his arms up in agitation.

"I guess that's one way of phrasing it," Wanda gave the pixies a contemptuous look.

"After ten thousand years, our petty disagreements and juvenile methods of dealing with things ought to be behind us," H.P. said. "Hopefully the fairies agree."

"So that's just it? You want me to agree to a partnership between garbage companies?"

"Yes," H.P. said simply.

"Well, thank you for presenting the offer in such a cordial way, H.P.," Wanda glanced sideways at the fidgety Anti-Cosmo, "but I have to decline. I just don't see how this would benefit the fairies particularly much. Things have been fine for ten thousand years, so why change them? Good luck in your endeavors."

Anti-Cosmo unzipped his mouth and proclaimed, "You'll need it!"

"I see," H.P. glanced at Sanderson.

"We see," Sanderson nodded, _PING!_ ing away his infographic.

Both pixies rose from the table.

"I'll have my men produce a new contract with the changes we've agreed on, and we will be presenting it to you within the next few coming weeks." H.P. procured a neat stack of cash and placed it on the restaurant bill. "Thank you for meeting us for dinner. Perhaps we'll be seeing you two around."

"Count on it!" Anti-Cosmo announced.

"Goodbye Wanda, A.C.," H.P. droned in farewell.

With two simultaneous _PING!_ s and grey, magic clouds, the two pixies had disappeared.

Wanda looked over at Anti-Cosmo, annoyed. "Well, that could have gone better."

"I think it went perfectly fine. Hopefully now you see what I was talking about."

"I have no idea what you're talking about ninety percent of the time, Anti-Cosmo. None of this proved anything to me. H.P. just asked me to compromise on a business deal. What part of this proves he got Big Daddy sent to jail?"

"That's precisely what proves it! H.P. wanted _you_ to be in charge, because he figured _you_ would be more receptive to his proposition than Big Daddy would be!"

"Oh, please. I'm sure he's come to Big Daddy asking for a compromise plenty of times over the years. And why would _I_ be more receptive to accept their proposition? Did you think they were going to _bribe_ me?"

Suddenly, two simultaneous _PING!_ s sounded again, and H.P. and Sanderson had reappeared before Wanda and Anti-Cosmo.

"Forgive me, as it appears Sanderson and I departed prematurely," H.P. said. "I know you've already dismissed our initial inquiry for partnership, Wanda, but I have another offer for you."

Wanda and Anti-Cosmo exchanged a glance. "What is it?" She asked.

"What if I were to bestow upon you...that is, your family's corporation ...complete control of the Fairy Rocher chocolate company?"

"The what?" Anti-Cosmo was nonplussed.

" _The Fairy Rocher chocolate company_?!" Wanda gasped.

"The Fairy Rocher chocolate company, otherwise known as the biggest chocolate and confectionery manufacturer in the universe," H.P. explained slowly, "Best known for their magically delicious chocolate hazelnut balls, chocolate bars, boxes of chocolates, chocolate spread, chocolate lava cakes, as well as...fudge."

As H.P. detailed each one of these products, Sanderson _PING!_ ed up each chocolate item, showcasing them as if he were a 'The Price Is Right' model.

"All this could be yours," H.P. said, "if you agree to sign the pixies into partnership."

"Here," Sanderson offered a plate of fudge to the two. "Have a taste."

Anti-Cosmo made a disgusted face. "Why would anyone want—"

Wanda, however, suddenly became ravenous, and immediately seized the plate. "How—in the _world_ —do you have—complete control—over—the Fairy Rocher company?!" She demanded with a mouthful of fudge.

"Oh, you know how it is in this sort of business," H.P. sounded even more flat than usual. "I once made Mr. Rocher an offer he couldn't refuse, and...the rest was history."

"Mmm, delectable," Sanderson said as he bit into a chocolate bar.

"So, what do you say, Wanda?" H.P. asked.

Wanda stared at him like a deer (with its face covered in chocolate) in headlights.

"I need to consult with my, um, comrade," she exclaimed in a very urgent and serious tone. "Come back later."

"Very well, we'll give you a few days to decide," H.P. said. "Alright, Sanderson. We're off again."

"If only I had some toast," Sanderson said, stirring the jar of chocolate spread with a butter knife.

The two _PING!_ ed away for the final time.

"What in the bloody underworld was that?" Anti-Cosmo asked sharply.

Wanda grabbed Anti-Cosmo by both arms and shook him. "You were right!" She cried. "You were right this whole time!"

Anti-Cosmo pushed her away from him and _ANTI-POOF!_ ed the chocolate residue from her hands off his sleeves. "Well, of course I was," He began, and then paused. "Right about what?"

" _They're up to something_! _The pixies are up to something_!" Wanda shouted, shoving fudge into her mouth. " _They destroyed my family once, they got my father arrested, and_ _now_ "—she shoved yet another piece of fudge in her mouth—" _they're going to destroy us all_!"

"Finally!" Anti-Cosmo shrieked. "Took you long enough, woman!"

* * *

A short while after the events at Frankie's, Wanda reappeared in her office. She haphazardly wiped the chocolate on her face onto the back of her sleeve, and gave a disdainful glance at Martino, who appeared to be snoring beside the doorway. She sighed, and took a moment to appreciate the utter silence and solace of her father's study.

" _WANDA_!" Cosmo hissed, popping out from underneath the desk.

" _AAAHHHHHH_!" Wanda screamed, then, after realizing who it was, put a hand to her head. "Cosmo, _what_ are you doing—"

"Where have you been?" Cosmo demanded.

"At a very awkward dinner. Why are you in here?"

"Well, after Timmy told me to get out of his face, I didn't really know where to go, so I went the first place I could think of...Orange County. Which is a misleading name, because I've been there lots of times and I've never seen any oranges. Or counties, now that I think about it. Just a bunch of dramatic skinny rich people with small dogs." Cosmo _POOF!_ ed up Georgina in one hand, and his signature nickel, Phillip, in the other. "Anyway, I went to Disneyland, and it was fun at first, but then I threw up on the teacup ride and Georgina was too short to go on the roller coasters and Phillip threw a tantrum and then I got bored. So I came here, because I can't go home...because Timmy hates me."

"Timmy doesn't hate you. He's just mad. You hurt his feelings. You broke his trust."

"Way to rub it in!"

"I'm just saying...it's going to take him a while to blow off some steam. But you guys will be back to normal in no time."

"I don't know," Cosmo sulked.

"Neither of you ever told me, what secret did you even tell Remy?"

Cosmo narrowed his eyes at her. "Ohhhhh no! I am not falling for _that_ trick again! I am not betraying Timmy's trust, not again, not ever!"

Wanda rolled her eyes. "Guess I'll ask Timmy later. But at least it seems you've learned a lesson."

"My life is in shambles! My godson hates me, and the two coins I care about the most hate each other! Why can't we all just get alooong!" He sobbed, repeatedly smacking his two coins together.

Then, after a brief moment of silence, he glared at his nickel.

" _Phillip_!" He scolded. "Lay off! You know Georgina is sensitive about her weight!"

"Cosmo, I have a lot of work to do," Wanda began in a tired voice, "Why don't you go and—"

"Perfect! I can help you!" Cosmo exclaimed cheerfully, _POOF!_ ing himself into a pinstripe suit and fedora. "Pleeeease can I do something here, Wanda? Timmy doesn't want me around, and you're here all the time, and I don't know what else to do!" His hat slumped over his face. "I can take out the trash! Literally _and_ figuratively!"

"I don't know," Wanda said disdainfully. "I don't think you realize how much responsibility comes with running this place."

"Oh, come on! I may not be smart, but I know things! I deserve respect! I can handle responsibility!"

"Cosmo, you sold Timmy out for a quarter."

"Okay! But—...but…" Cosmo frowned, and _POOF!_ ed himself back into normal clothes. "...Good point."

"I'll find you something to do," Wanda sighed. "Until then…"

Wanda thought for a while, looking unsure. Cosmo _POOF!_ ed away Phillip and Georgina.

"You're not still mad at me too, are you?" He asked suddenly, and grabbed his hair with both hands. "I can't handle this many people and coins mad at me at the same time."

"... _Still_ mad at you? For what?"

Wanda's breath was abruptly knocked out of her when Cosmo flew up and hugged her tightly. "I'm sorry I said you had anger issues!" He cried. "I mean, you _do_ , sorta, but the truth is, you have way less anger issues than anyone else around here! If I make someone mad—which I do very often—they're way more likely to beat me up and-slash-or drop something heavy on me than you are. And sure, you kept dropping trash bags on me the other day, but that's only because I deserved it!"

Wanda's heart dropped. She hugged him back, guiltily. "Honey, you do not deserve to have a trash bag, or any other sort of heavy object, dropped on you, ever. I'm sorry I ever convinced you otherwise."

"It's okay," he replied. "Besides, I have notoriously fast healing powers and I've gotten used to it to the point where it doesn't even hurt anyway, so no harm, no foul!"

"I'm hesitant to believe you'd prefer I do that than act gentler toward you."

"Gentle like what? Dropping a bag of feathers on me instead? Because Jorgen is right, whatever you guys are throwing away around here is heavyyyyy."

"No, no. Like kissing you." And then she kissed him.

After a few moments, Cosmo started to giggle, and he pulled away. "Okay," he said. "That _is_ better, yes."

End of Chapter 4

A/N: Listen. I have something really serious to ask you guys. ( _inhales deeply_ ) Can we all just agree...that Season 5, Episode 8B, "Timmy TV," is in no way, shape, or form canon? It makes no sense. First of all, Cosmo and Wanda claim that Timmy gives them "warning" before he wishes himself to Fairy World, which is definitely not true. Timmy has shown up unannounced in Fairy World multiple times; on more than one occasion, he's shown up specifically to _save_ Fairy World. Second of all, there are both fairy children and college-aged fairies depicted in the episode—but, as established later in the series in "Fairly Odd Baby," we know no fairy has been born after Cosmo; thus, it outright proves that "Timmy TV" is non-canon and/or was completely dreamt up by Timmy.

...This author's note comes as a defense to the one-liner joke Jorgen made that you probably don't even remember at this point. _Ayyyyyyyooooooooo  
_ With that said, ThAnKs FoR rEaDiNg yet another longwinded chapter, My Fine Dudes. Chapter 5 is, as they say, on 'da wae.' ( _throws up two peace signs and_ _Heelys away backwards_ )

...I told myself I'd have less cringey/longwinded and pointless author's notes when I came back to FFN...I told myself I knew how to act like an adult on the Internet... _I told myself_...


	5. Lay Down Your Money & You Play Your Part

"Didn't we used to have some _security_ around here?" Demanded a shrill, grating, female voice.

Wanda yelped in surprise, lifting her head from the desk that she had evidently slumped over and fallen asleep on. She met eyes, dazedly, with the fairy in front of her—a woman in a fur coat, wearing far too much eyeshadow, with a cigarette dangling out of her mouth, that the half-awake Wanda could only register as an identical-yet-somewhat-hotter version of herself.

"Blonda?" Wanda cleared her throat, rubbing her eyes.

"About time you woke up. It's half past noon. I can't believe this. Daddy puts you in charge, and all you're doing is sleeping until the cows come home!"

Wanda glanced at her watch, and assessed that Blonda's statement was correct—it was indeed 12:30. "Geez...who let you in?" she grumbled groggily.

"There was no one at the door, genius! There's no security here at all! Way to run a business, Wanda!"

Wanda blinked, and on cue, a small note _POOF!_ ed beside her head. She took the paper and read it:

 _Wanda-  
_ _Me 'n' Fellas Went to Franco's  
_ _See You After Lunch Break  
_ _-Martino  
_ _P.S. We Will Bring Back Cannolis_

Wanda groaned, _POOF!_ ed the note away, and then propelled her chair back. "What did you want?"

Blonda gave a sharp, annoyed sigh. "Well, Wanda. Since you're the new…'Big Daddy' around here, I'm forced to come to you for…" she pursed her lips, angrily considering her word choice for a moment, "...assistance."

Wanda gave her sister a dubious look. "Are you...asking for money?"

"No!" Blonda exclaimed crossly. "Of course not! You think I need to ask for money? Who do you think I am?"

"I think you're a real—"

"I am TV's Blonda! Universally famous actress, and star of the widely renowned _All My Biceps_! Rated number one soap opera in Fairy World in _Fairy Soap Opera Digest_!"

"Then what is it you want?" Wanda sighed.

Blonda took a long, dramatic drag, breaking eye contact with Wanda and instead concentrating on the wall behind her. "Due to recent...events, that have taken place in my life, um...happenstances, if you will—"

"Scandals?" Wanda said flatly.

"Potato, potahto," Blonda replied dismissively, "It seems that...my _amour propre_ , as it is perceived amongst my colleagues is...how do I put this, um...jeopardized, and, because of this, I have been disposed to a situation that is...less than ideal."

Wanda stared at her skeptically, and then snorted. "What, are the writers making you date Poof Everwish again?"

"No!" Blonda spat in frustration, finally collapsing onto the desk in front of her. "They're writing me off, Wanda! They're writing me off the show! They're sending my character on a mission trip to Tibecuador, where I'll spend the rest of my days helping sick, impoverished children! Nurse Blonda doesn't _help sick, impoverished children_! It's completely out of character! They're only doing it because they don't want me on the show anymore!"

Wanda's initial expression of shock slowly manifested to one of fiendish delight. "Well, well, well! 'TV's Blonda' should probably drop the 'TV' part from her title, don't you think?"

"Wanda!" Blonda begged. "You have to help me keep my job. Please. I'm your sister. Big Daddy always helped me out in these situations in the past. And now _you're_ Big Daddy, so you have to help me out."

This piqued Wanda's interest. "You don't say? Pray tell. How exactly has Big Daddy…'helped you out' with these situations in the past?"

Blonda frowned. "I don't know. He would always just tell me not to worry about it, and then he would go and make the television executives...an offer they couldn't refuse."

"Typical," Wanda rolled her eyes. "Well. I'm sorry, Blonda. But Big Daddy put me in charge, and as the new Big Daddy, I say: You're on your own."

"What?!" Blonda shouted. "This isn't fair, Wanda! None of this is fair! You get control over the entire family business, and what do I get?" She smashed the butt of her cigarette into a conveniently placed ashtray on the desk and then immediately _POOF!_ ed a new cigarette into her mouth and lit it. "A selfish sister who can't even help me out with this one thing!"

"Cry me a—river," Wanda coughed, waving the smoke away from her face. "Ugh—didn't you—quit smoking—two thousand years ago?"

" _I'VE BEEN A LITTLE STRESSED RECENTLY FOR MULTIPLE REASONS_!" she replied loudly and matter-of-factly.

"Well, that's not my fault. This is what you get. It's about time you actually start paying the consequences for your poor decisions."

"You are the worst, Wanda! I hate you!" She pulled her fur coat tighter, and raised her wand threateningly. "In fact, I'm going right over the Fairy World Prison, and I'm going to tell Daddy how terribly you're running his empire!"

"Go ahead," Wanda said. Before she could say anything else, a loud _THUNK!_ sounded from beneath Wanda's desk.

"Owww!" Cosmo shrieked, rose out from beneath the desk while rubbing his head, and yawned. "Wait, what'd I miss? Oh—hi Blonda!"

Blonda paused, and gave Wanda a look of incredulity. "Has he been under there the entire time?"

"What's going on?" Cosmo asked obliviously.

"Blonda was just leaving," Wanda replied. "Amazingly enough, she had the audacity to ask me to try and save her job on account of her own stupid actions."

"Ooh, stupid actions," Cosmo nodded. "I know a lot about those. But wait—Blonda lost her job? No way! She's TV's Blonda! Star of _All My Biceps_! Rated number one soap opera in Fairy World in _Fairy Soap Opera Digest_!"

"Star no longer," Wanda smirked.

"All because Wanda's an inconsiderate jerk who refuses to help out her own sister!" Blonda barked.

"Aww, Wanda, don't be like that! Just because you two hate each other doesn't mean you two have to...hate...each other…" Cosmo frowned. "Oh...wait. I guess it does."

"I've already made up my mind. Bye Blonda," Wanda dismissed.

Blonda harrumphed miserably. Before she had a chance to disappear, Cosmo leapt out from under the desk.

"Wait!" Cosmo gasped. "I know! Why don't I help Blonda get her job back?"

"What?" Wanda asked, confused.

" _What_?" Blonda shrieked.

"Yeah! I wanna do something! I wanna help with the family business! You said you'd find me something to do!" Cosmo said, wrapping an arm tightly around Blonda, much to the blonde fairy's dismay. "Why not let it be saving my sister-in-law's career? Pleeeease Wanda, let me help her?"

"Oh, God, Wanda, please, no," Blonda pleaded with terror.

Wanda stared at them both, looking as if a glorious epiphany had come upon her. "You know what? That's not a half bad idea. Go ahead, Cosmo. And good luck—you'll need it."

" _Yay_! I'm helping!"

"Noooo!" Blonda shouted, grabbing her hair. "Wanda, what are you doing?"

"What? You asked me to help you, and now you're getting what you wanted!" Wanda shrugged.

"Don't worry, Blonda! I know how to talk to soap opera people! You just gotta speak their language," Cosmo then put an arm to his forehead and yelled in a very melodramatic tone, " _Don't you know my client only has SEVEN HOURS TO LIVE_?!"

Cosmo grinned proudly, Blonda shook her head in horror, and Wanda just smiled at the both of them.

Suddenly, the office door swung wide open, and Timmy and Poof entered the room; the former seemingly on edge, and the latter just excited to see his parents.

"Wanda!" Timmy said defiantly. Then, he looked around the room in surprise. "Oh. There's...more people in here than I expected."

"Hi you two," Wanda flew over and plucked Poof out of the air and kissed his forehead, causing the baby to titter happily.

"Hi Timmy! Hi Poof!" Cosmo greeted excitedly.

"Still not talking to you," Timmy said sharply.

"Poof-poof," Poof greeted his father with a wave.

"I've noticed it's pretty easy to get in here," Timmy commented. "Shouldn't you guys have security? Bodyguards or something?"

"We did at one point," Wanda sighed and ruffled Poof's single tuft of hair. "How are you boys doing?"

"Uhhh, things have...taken an interesting turn," Timmy said. "Actually, Wanda, I was wondering if I could talk to you. Alone."

Wanda gave him a curious look, but shrugged and handed Poof to Cosmo. "Alright, you three go and don't cause too much trouble," she advised. "No funny business."

"There's no funny business like show business!" Cosmo declared cheerfully, and lifted his wand in the air. "Come on, Blonda! Let's go give those TV executives a piece of our minds!"

"My career is _over_!" Blonda sobbed, and put her head into her hands.

Within a split-second, Cosmo, Blonda, and Poof vanished, leaving Wanda and Timmy alone in the room.

"What's on your mind, sport?" Wanda asked.

Timmy jumped into the comically oversized chair in front of Wanda's desk. "So, let me just get something straight—is it true that you and Anti-Cosmo are working together to try and stop the pixies from taking over the world?"

"Ugh, something like that, I guess," Wanda rolled her eyes. "I don't know. At this point, I think I'm mostly just his rebound."

"'Cause last night, Jorgen told me a lot about the history between your family and the pixies. Like, more than I asked for. Way more." Timmy paused. "And there were...puppets, for some reason..." He shook his head, struggling to deal with the absurd memory.

Wanda froze. "He did? Why? Well, wait—what did he even tell you?!"

"He told me that Big Daddy and H.P. got into a fight over garbage businesses and that Big Daddy won or whatever," Timmy shrugged. "I don't know _why_ he told me about it, but he did. Jorgen was acting really weird. Not that he's particularly _normal_ on any given day, but I digress."

"Oh," Wanda said, suddenly looking a bit calmer. "Yeah, well, Jorgen's...an odd person," she said swiftly, with a nervous chuckle, "Jorgen von Strangle, more like Jorgen von... _Strange_! Haha...ha…ahem..."

"So, it's true? Your family and the pixies got into a garbage turf war?" Timmy immediately snorted after speaking, realizing how ridiculous the phrase sounded.

"Yes," Wanda rolled her eyes again. "A looooong, long time ago. But apparently old grudges die hard. Last night, H.P. had the nerve to ask me to go into a partnership with him!"

"Wait, you _talked_ to H.P. last night?"

"Yes! He invited me to dinner! And then bribed me with chocolate!"

"Chocolate?!" Timmy exclaimed. "That man knows all the tricks in the book! You're being manipulated, Wanda!"

"No, I'm _not_ being manipulated, because I'm _not_ agreeing to anything he says. No matter how good Fairy Rocher fudge is…" She looked immensely pained, but then banged a fist down on the desk. "I have self-control, darn it!"

"Do you think there's more to it?" Timmy asked. "Like, first it's Fairy World Garbage Inc., and then, next, it's...Fairy World itself?"

"I'll be honest with you, Timmy, I have no idea. All I know is, I have to stay here and keep running this business the best way I know how..." She stretched her arms over the table and cracked her knuckles. "...Stylishly! Which reminds me, I need to make sure everyone's new floral ascots are back from the dry cleaners!"

"And what about Anti-Cosmo?"

"What about him?"

"What is he doing?"

"I don't know. He comes and he goes and pitches me ideas for how to 'destroy' the pixies. Unfortunately for him, he hasn't yet come to grips with the fact that I, unlike him, am not a zany villain," Wanda said flatly.

"Shouldn't you be concentrating more on figuring out what exactly the pixies' plan is in the first place _before_ you start thinking of ways to defeat them?"

"Yes! I completely agree!" Wanda exclaimed. "I'm just not sure how. Anti-Cosmo's no help, he just does whatever he wants. Everyone else around here is busy...the majority of my uncles are up to their wings with their garbage duties; Uncle Piero's stuck on night shifts at the dive bar, so he's exhausted all day; Uncle Carmino's too busy trying to get his 'writing career' off the ground to even care about garbage anymore, and Cousin Guido...well, I don't even know where Guido went off to…"

"You're in luck, Wanda," Timmy gestured to himself with a smirk, "Because that's where _I_ come in! I know exactly how to help you guys figure out the pixies' big plan. I came up with it last night after Jorgen left and me and Poof finished watching the last of the _Godfather_ movies."

Wanda looked absolutely appalled. " _Timmy_!"

"I know, I know, I shouldn't let Poof watch that stuff, it's incredibly violent and sexual, I'm sor—"

"No, not just that! You watched the third _Godfather_ movie?! That's the absolute worst of the bunch! Sofia Coppola is a worse actress than Blonda! Why would you subject yourself to that?!"

"I had to know how it ended! If I could go back in time and stop myself from watching it, I would!" Timmy exclaimed. "Actually, I totally could, but that seems like a lot of work for not a lot of payoff. _Anyway_! Here's my idea. You remember how during the Fairy World Games, the pixies wanted _me_ as a prize? What if I went to the pixies and told them that I don't like the fairies anymore and I want to have pixie godparents instead? Then, after I get them to trust me and think that I'm on their side, they'll probably tell me all the details of their big plan, and I can relay the information to you!"

"That's a pretty good idea, although it sounds really dangerous. I mean, what if the pixies don't buy it? Or what if they find out you're lying?"

"They won't! Trust me, Wanda, I have it all under control," He waved his hand in a proud, dismissive way. "And, besides, what would they even do? Kill me? _Hahahahaha_! Hahaha, ha, ha...ha...why are you looking at me like that?"

"I don't know if you should get involved in this, Timmy," Wanda said anxiously.

"Oh, come on! I'll be fine! Haven't I been through worse?"

Wanda grimaced. "I guess I can't argue with that. But...it's still really dangerous."

"So was fighting a huge soul-sucking cloud called the Darkness. I'm good."

"Timmy. If you get involved in this, I'm afraid…"

"Afraid of what?"

Wanda mentally groaned. Jorgen really did need to learn how to keep his mouth shut—her father was definitely right about that. And so was Anti-Cosmo…

"Tell me, Wanda," Timmy said, "before I wish it out of you."

Of course, her godson had the power of persuasion. Da Rules was a strange book. You couldn't interfere with true love, but you could certainly coerce someone into doing things and admitting things they didn't want to...yeah, that was totally fair game and completely moral. "I'm afraid...of things...that might come out. That the pixies might tell you when you're talking to them."

"About the fairies?"

"Yes. Well, more specifically...about me."

"About you, huh? What morally ambiguous things have you done?"

"Nothing." Wanda pursed her lips to the side. "Not really. But...my family...has a history. It's not a very good one. In fact, it's pretty bad. But the fairies are always striving to do the greater good, and I don't want you to think—"

"Wanda, please. I just watched all three of the _Godfather_ movies. And also, I've watched HBO." Timmy snorted. "I know your dad's not just a garbage man. Your family's like the freaking Fairy Mafia, right?"

" _Timmy_!" Wanda hissed, looking around the room fearfully, as if she were afraid someone else could hear them. "You can't just go around saying that! We have a reputation to uphold!"

"Well it's definitely a _trashy_ reputation," Timmy laughed. "Get it? Because...oh, lighten up, Wanda. I don't care. If anything, I think it's cool! You guys go around doing all this hardcore stuff like shooting people and running casinos. That's awesome!"

"We do not go around shooting people and running casinos!" Wanda exclaimed furiously. "Although, we do have a franchise in Vegas...it's not that barbaric!"

"You're right, sorry, I shouldn't have assumed. I guess there's a reason why they call it _organized_ crime, am I right?" Timmy snapped his fingers. "Ha- _ha_ …"

Wanda put her head in her hands.

"What?" The boy exclaimed. "That was a good one!"

"Timmy, if you're going to help me, you've got to get a few things straight..." Wanda lifted her head and put both of her hands palms down on the table, "...because I guess I do owe you an explanation for all of this."

"Sweet! I'm listening."

"Before I tell you anything, though, I have one question."

"Yeah, what?"

"Why the sudden interest in helping me? No offense, Timmy, but you've always been the sort of person who doesn't really give a hoot until it directly affects you and-slash-or interferes with your daily life," Wanda remarked.

"Hey, come on! Why wouldn't I want to help you? You're my fairy godmother! I care about you! And your business! And...stuff!"

"That's sweet, Timmy. So you're _not_ just doing this to have an excuse to skip school today?" She gave him a knowing look. "Because it's almost one o'clock on a Monday."

"You said _one_ question!" Timmy defended.

* * *

Deep in the swanky hills of Fairywood sat Fairymount Studios, an enormous lot filled with several different television show sets. All My Biceps's set sat at one corner of the lot. Various fairies bustled about between the stages of the soap opera.

"See, Poof, one of the best parts about being on a TV set is the free food," Cosmo explained seriously, gesturing to a large table situated backstage.

"Poof-poof," Poof gleefully took a plate full of mashed potatoes.

Cosmo grabbed a chicken drumstick and haphazardly waved it in front of Blonda's face, causing her to flinch backward. "Do you want some free food, Blonda?!" He shouted.

"Frankly, I yearn for the sweet release of death," she sighed in response.

"But we haven't even gotten your job back yet!" Cosmo frowned. "And by the way, you can count on us. We're not giving up until we get you your job back. We promise! Right, Poof?"

"Poof-poof!" Poof grinned, displaying his mouthful of potatoes.

"Unbelievable," Blonda wailed. "I've been a perfect sister all these years, and this is the thanks I get? Getting stuck with you two…you two..."

Blonda paused, closely surveying the two males who accompanied her. Cosmo was attempting to pick his nose with his wand, while Poof had smashed his plate of food directly onto his face.

"... _philistines_?" She put the back of her hand to her forehead melodramatically. "I was named _Fairy People_ magazine's Most Marketable Woman 347 years in a row, and now _this_ is where my life has ended up?"

"Hey! Who says you're not still marketable? You're the most marketable woman I've ever met!...Probably!" Cosmo took a large bite out of the drumstick and pondered for a moment. "If 'marketable' means what I think it means…"

"Kafkaesque," Blonda shuddered.

"Gesundheit," Cosmo responded.

"Blonda! There you are!"

A blue-haired, mustached director in a purple beret holding a megaphone rushed up to the actress, looking frenetic.

"Oh, what do you want, Jeff?" Blonda grumbled.

"Blonda! Baby!" He grabbed his beret with both hands, "You can't just keep showing up late to work like this! The producers need to talk to you. It's urgent."

"What for?"

"Ehhh, ya gonna have to ask them yourself—they don't disclose anything to me, honest," Jeff said anxiously. He absentmindedly _P_ _OOF!_ ed up a Zappy and scratched the back of his head with it. "Now, I gotta go, we're holdin' a casting call on Stage C today. It's been nice working with ya, Blonda."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Blonda frowned.

"Uhhh, nothin'! Nothin'! Don't read into it! Oh, what's that, Karen?!" Jeff exclaimed suddenly, pretending as if he were wearing a headset, and spun around. "Karen, baby, how are ya? Right, right, I'm headed over to auditions now. I'll see you in a minute!"

Jeff immediately magicked away in a cloud of magic smoke that read _DIRECTOR'S CUT!_

Not two seconds after Jeff had disappeared, three consecutive _POOF!_ s occurred, and three fairies holding clipboards had appeared: A portly man with a combover, a skinny man with curly hair, and a third man wearing a soldier helmet.

"Blonda," said the portly one.

"Oh, no," Blonda lamented.

"Wait, who are these guys?" Cosmo asked Blonda. "And why do they remind me of an award-winning Broadway musical for some reason? Do you know which musical I'm talking about, Blonda? I forgot what it was called…"

"We're the producers," said the skinny one.

"Wait, wait, wait! It's on the tip of my tongue!" Cosmo insisted, looking like he was in pain from attempting to think so hard.

"You may have guessed the reason we've come to see you, Blonda," said the one in the soldier helmet. "We need to talk about your...contract."

"We at the Fairy World Federation of Television and Radio Artists have found your performance this past season to be...lacking," said the portly one, "to put it kindly…"

"Lacking? I bring my A-game to set everyday!" Blonda insisted defiantly.

"You haven't been on set at all the past week," the skinny one remarked.

"And you were late to set today," said the one in the soldier helmet.

Blonda blinked.

"I bring my A-game to set everyday I choose to show up!" she corrected herself, sounding just as defiant.

"That, combined with many other consist issues we've had with you and your…" the portly one looked very hesitant, "...temperament...in the past, we three have made the executive decision to—"

" _TEMPERAMENT_?! What's that supposed to mean, huh?!" Blonda had grabbed the portly producer and pulled him up to her face. "If only my father were here, he'd show you schmucks ' _temperament_ ,' and as well as a trash grabber shoved up each of your—"

" _THE PRODUCERS_!" Cosmo shouted, finally.

Everyone paused to stare at him for a moment.

"I remembered the name!" Cosmo explained proudly.

The portly producer pushed Blonda away and casually dusted himself off. "As I was saying, we've decided it best for this to be your final season with _All My Biceps_."

"There are five episodes left of Season 537, so we do hope you make the best of them," said the skinny one.

"Who knows? Maybe you'll even finally win a Zappy," said the one in the soldier helmet snidely.

"This is an outrage," Blonda snarled. "An outright travesty! How dare you speak to me this way? Accuse me of having a 'temperament,' and have the nerve to call my performance 'lacking'?"

"Yeah!" Cosmo piped up suddenly. "How dare you say...all that stuff! If Blonda's such a bad actress, then why even bother to keep her around for the rest of the season?"

"What?" Blonda said after a pause.

"What?" the portly producer echoed.

"You heard me!" Cosmo exclaimed. "If Blonda's really such a terrible, lousy, no-talent, awardless diva who can't show up to work on time to save her life, why don't you just fire her _right now_?!"

The three producers exchanged a glance.

"Well, when you put it that way," said the skinny producer, "okay."

"Yeah, sounds good to me," the one in the soldier hat agreed, and the portly one nodded.

"Wait—hold on a second!" Blonda held up her hands frantically.

"As of today, Blonda, your role with our show has officially been terminated," said the skinny producer.

"But—wait—I—"

"We thank you for your cooperation in the decision," interrupted the producer in the soldier hat. "You are now free to leave the _All My Biceps_ set. Forever, preferably."

"Alright, gentlemen, it's back to the lab," the portly one said.

The two others nodded, and then all three of them simultaneously _POOF!_ ed away, leaving behind a cloud of magic smoke that read _THAT'S SHOW BUSINESS!_

"Well!" Cosmo said loudly after a while, and turned to the baby beside him. "Let this be a lesson, Poof. Never talk back to your higher-ups. It will get you nowhere in life. And also," he turned to fearfully regard the seething blond-haired fairy in front of him, "I'm really bad at reverse psychology."

* * *

"The first thing you need to know, Timmy, is that Fairy World Garbage Incorporated...is a completely legitimate business," Wanda said.

"Suuuuuure it is."

"No. It is."

"I got you."

"Timmy, this is an actual waste management facility," Wanda emphasized. "Every morning I send a hundred garbage men out to collect trash from various magical lands. They come back and the trash gets sent to the incinerator, which burns the garbage and generates energy so that the magic from that garbage can be reused again."

Timmy frowned. "...is that all you do?"

"I also do paperwork," the fairy lifted a stack of documents and tapped them on the desk to straighten them. "As you can see, there's a lot of it, because evidently someone didn't file their tax returns for three thousand, nine hundred, and sixty-five years."

"That's what you do, all day?"

"Essentially, yes. I do have a few people I send out on odd jobs and I meet with a few clients. Come to think of it," Wanda tapped her chin, "...I wonder why Binky hasn't checked back with me yet…"

"Okay, that sounds all fine and dandy and _booooring_ ," Timmy rolled his eyes, "at what point does the 'Mafia' part come into play?"

"It doesn't," she said firmly.

"Oh. Wait. So. Uh. But. The Mafia _is_ a thing, right?"

"It _was_ a thing." Wanda dropped the papers back down on the desk in a haphazard manner. "You know what happens to magic when it decomposes, right?"

"Yeah, of course—it turns into stinky magic."

"Correct. Stinky magic is a very powerful form of magic, because it's rogue. It doesn't obey by the normal laws of magic. It does whatever it wants. Some people know how to handle it, though. They say you have to be born with the ability. They call it the stinky gene."

"The 'stinky gene'? _Really_?"

"Listen, I didn't name it. Had I been part of the team that made that decision, I would've named it something much nicer. Like, 'the tidy gene.' Or 'the cleanliness gene.' Or maybe, 'the godliness gene'—"

"Anyway!" Timmy interjected.

"Anyway, long story short, that's why pretty much everybody in my family is a garbage man," Wanda shrugged. "Because we're some of the only fairies capable of handling stinky magic."

"I see. So that's why you don't like the pixies having their own business," Timmy said. "Because they don't have the stinky gene."

"That's _one_ of the reasons, yes." Wanda looked pensive for a few seconds. "But, as it's turned out, they know how to handle stinky magic relatively well."

"Uh, and that's good, right?"

"Not good. Which brings me to the next part of my story. This is the part where that thing you keep mentioning becomes important."

"You mean the Mafia?"

"Yeah, that thing."

* * *

"You'd think ten thousand, three hundred, and thirty-one years of dedicated work would _mean_ something around here!" Blonda lamented, float-pacing the backstage back and forth. "I mean, who do they think they are? Do they really think they're in charge? That they're the...the 'bosses' around here? Well, let me tell them something: There's only one real 'Boss'! And you wanna know who that is?"

"Bruce Springsteen?" Cosmo guessed enthusiastically. He and Poof floated with their backs against the wall in the corner of the room.

Blonda stopped pacing and turned to look at him with an expression nothing short of abhorrence. "No, you idiot! My father! Big Daddy! And I will not rest until he gets out of jail and sends these low-lifes where they belong— _six hundred feet under seventy-five bags of trash_!"

" _QUIET ON SET_!" Jeff the director shouted through his megaphone, float-sitting in his director's chair in front of the stage. "Can't you people see I'm trying to hold some auditions here?! Take it from the top!"

"That's a lot of trash. But hey, at least auditions are going on!" Cosmo pointed out. "Maybe if you go up and give them a good enough audition, they'll put you back on the show!"

"I'm not going to audition for a role I already had! Besides…" Blonda made an uncomfortable face, and floated closer toward the front of the stage, "I haven't auditioned for anything since I was a teenager! I've always just had roles...given to me. I used to be someone. I _used_ to be wanted in this industry. And now I'm just...just..."

"Washed up?" Cosmo offered.

Blonda spun back around and glared daggers at the green-haired fairy. "Lest we forget, moron, that _you're_ the one who prematurely cost me my job! So I'd keep my mouth shut if I were you—just my two cents!"

"Ooh, you have two cents?!" Cosmo exclaimed, completely ignoring the entire first part of Blonda's statement. He excitedly _POOF!_ ed up his quarter and his nickel. "I have coins too! This one's Georgina, and this one's Phillip. Both of them make at least two cents! I think…"

"Oh, my aching head!" Blonda slammed her eyes shut, gave a dramatic sigh, and rubbed her temples. She proceeded to register Cosmo's drivel as background noise for the following several minutes.

"...so really, Phillip is the more outdoorsy one," Cosmo concluded after a while. "Georgina likes nature, but she'd rather sleep in on the mornings. And I can relate to that. What about you, Blonda? Do you eat breakfast before or after your morning jog?"

Blonda re-opened her eyes. Rather than pay attention to Cosmo, the first thing she did was notice someone was absent from their trio. "Hey, where'd the baby go?" she asked.

Upon Blonda's query, an immediate look of terror overcame Cosmo's face. "Oh no—" he looked around urgently. " _Poof_!" he yelled.

"Poof-poof!"

Cosmo and Blonda both turned to look back toward the stage. Jeff had acquired Poof, and held him in his hands, admiring the child with utter fascination.

"Karen!" Jeff shouted. "Did you get that on tape? One moment. You stay here, short stuff," he instructed the baby, and then darted back to his director's chair. " _ACTION_!" he shouted.

Poof didn't do anything other than float in the middle of the stage, looking very confused. A few seconds of silence passed.

"Is—is something supposed to be happening?" asked the fairy operating the boom mic.

"See if you can get him to say that thing again!" Jeff demanded.

"What thing?" the boom mic operator asked.

"That _thing_!"

"Poof-poof?" Poof asked.

" _BRILLIANT_!" Jeff shouted, so excited that he knocked over the chair he was floating above. "He's—a natural! Such incredible acting talent is not made! He's a prodigy! Ladies and gentlemen, we have found our new star!"

The directing crowd began to applaud. Jeff floated over to Poof, and raised him into the air proudly.

"This is wonderful! Karen, make sure you pay this boy for his time on set today. Such amazing talent should not go without compensation! And this is such incredible timing, as well! We have so much more money in the budget now that we've fired Blonda, we can afford to pay him _tenfold_ the starting wage!"

Cosmo and Blonda watched the scene play out in front of them; they both seemed to be pretty shocked by the turn of events, to say the least.

Blonda's jaw dropped. " _The BABY_ _took my job_?!"

"Blonda, show some compassion! My son is a _star_!" Cosmo gushed.

Blonda grabbed her head with both hands, and then proceeded to scream at the top of her lungs.

End of Chapter 5

A/N: Obligatory warning that updates will become more sporadic and sparse (...like they weren't already?) due to my Real Life Responsibilities(TM), writer's block, and who I am as a person in general. Also, happy 10th birthday, Poof. 😚💜💜💜✨I posted a few doodles of him on tumblr (linked on my profile). I actually did them months ago when I was thinking of writing a completely different fanfic BUT ANYWAYYYYY

Did you guys know you could put emojis in fanfics? My mind is fucking blown. 💝🔪😈👦🍣😡🍝👻🗑💥👊💥🎬💕😭👻🎂💰🙌

There you guys go, that's the whole rest of the story told in emojis. #spoilers #DecodeAtYourOwnRisk. Oh, and, uh...thank you guys so very much for reading. ❤️


	6. It's Like Beating a Dead, oh, Right

"I wish I had popcorn," Timmy requested.

Wanda waved her wand and procured the buttery food for him, looking a bit skeptical. "Timmy, I'm not supposed to tell you what I'm about to tell you. But I don't have much choice, seeing as you hold the upper-hand in this..."

She paused.

"...oddly submissive relationship I have with you," she finished, a bit disturbed by her realization.

"Hey, I'm just a ten-year-old boy. You're the one in control of the magic 'garbage business.'" Timmy did quotation marks with his fingers as he spoke the last two words of his sentence.

"How many times do I have to tell you this _is_ an actual garbage business?"

"Ten-year-old boy," Timmy repeated, putting a handful of popcorn into his mouth. "My memory retention isn't that great yet."

Wanda sighed. "You are definitely part of the Family, though. I don't know why I'm so anxious. It's not like I'm breaking _omertá_."

"Ooohhh. You know it's about to get serious when someone starts speaking in Italian."

Wanda rolled her eyes and cleared her throat. She began, "Thousands and thousands and thousands of years ago, there was a time before humans. Fairy godparents weren't a thing, fairy babies were being born left and right, and...overall, fairies lived with a bit more reckless abandon. This was the time when the Mafia was at its prime. For the most part, it was a relatively low-key fact of life. A bit of gambling here, maybe an eensy-bit of loan-sharking there. But, eventually, like most undercover illicit operations, things started to get...complicated. They _really_ started to spiral out of control when I was...probably around your age—only a decade or so after the baby ban—and, then, everything seemed to swiftly come to a head, thanks to the pixies...and that's when Big Daddy started to work on turning the business completely legitimate."

"Alright, what did the pixies do? The way everyone keeps talking about them like they're the freakin' devil, I feel like they did more than just 'open a competing garbage business,'" Timmy said flatly.

"Well, up until that point, there had been no competing garbage business. I mean, of course, there was Rocco's Recycling, and Carlo's Composting, but there was never one run by magical creatures other than fairies. And that was scary. Especially since pixies are the sworn enemies of fairies. They don't abide by the same code as us garbage fairies do, nor do they have the same genetic makeup, or anything. And when H.P. had the nerve to try and invade on our trash-collecting property, well, Big Daddy got mad."

"Mad how? Mad like the time I stood up to him? Mad like dropping a hundred bags of garbage on someone? Mad like what?"

"I mean really mad." Wanda folded her arms, looking troubled, but nevertheless continued. "Nowadays, we do our best to destroy all instances of stinky magic. Tame it, capture it, and, finally, send it to the incinerator, and incinerate it, effectively turning it into normal magic again. But there was a time when we didn't used to do that with stinky magic. We used to bottle it and keep it around."

"Why?"

"Good question. In fact, I also asked that question once. For me, I was concerned about the fact that having all of those bottles of stinky magic made our entire house absolutely _reek,_ " She huffed in disgust at the memory. "And people think I must have had such a 'luxurious' childhood, growing up in such an affluent part of Fairy World? Try coming home everyday to a mansion that smells like rotting food and old socks! I mean, eventually, I got used to it. But it was still jarring at times and made bringing friends over suuuuper awkward, let me tell you…"

"Okay, so then, what? Why? Why keep the stinky magic?"

"Because…" Wanda fretted. "If you...allow enough time to pass, and you keep the stinky magic under certain conditions, it...turns into something else. Something...more valuable."

"... _stinkier magic_?!" Timmy gasped in a sarcastic, over-dramatic fashion.

Wanda rolled her eyes. "Technically, yes. But, the proper term for it is...toxic magic."

"Ah, yes. 'Toxic' magic! Because the existence of ' _stinky'_ magic just wasn't enough, it had to be taken one step further," the boy groaned. "And what makes toxic magic so valuable, hmm? What does it do?"

Wanda met eyes with Timmy hesitantly.

"Kills people," she admitted.

* * *

"My _TRAILER_!" Blonda screamed.

However, Blonda's assertion wasn't exactly correct anymore. She watched in horror as a worker splashed a line of red paint over where the star on the front read "BLONDA," and then quickly scribbled underneath in big, red letters, "POOF."

"Oof…" Cosmo grimaced as he watched the same scene play out, putting a hand to his chin. "That's rough."

"Rough— _YOU IDIOT, LOOK WHAT YOU'VE DONE_!" Blonda grabbed Cosmo by the shirt and tie. "Y _OU WERE SUPPOSED TO HELP ME GET MY JOB BACK, AND ALL YOU DID WAS MAKE IT WORSE_!"

"Hey, hey, hey!" Cosmo pulled away from her. "It's not my fault. How was _I_ supposed to know I gave birth to a natural-born star?"

"Poof-poof," Poof asserted, flying up to the duo. He was wearing sunglasses and had ditched his typical purple onesie for a fancy gold tracksuit.

Cosmo gasped, and put his hands to his face. "Look, Blonda! He's talking to _us_! I knew you wouldn't forget the little people, Poof!" He exclaimed, and took the baby into a tight hug. "We're the ones who got you here!"

"Poof-poof," Poof said in a very reverent tone, and gently patted Cosmo on the shoulder.

Blonda took this as another opportunity to scream. " _THIS IS THE WORST DAY OF MY LIFE_!"

Poof popped himself out of Cosmo's arms, and approached Blonda. "Poof-poof," he said sadly and removed his sunglasses. He closed his eyes and shook his head. "Poof...poof."

"The fame," Cosmo exclaimed, "the fame is messing with his psyche. Life in the limelight...it's...it's too much for him! Especially at such a young age! This isn't the lifestyle he bargained for!"

"Poof-poof," Poof nodded, asserting that Cosmo's statement was correct. He gestured to the trailer and shook his head. Then he turned back to Blonda, and offered her his pair of sunglasses. "Poof-poof!"

"Poof's right!" Cosmo proclaimed. "We're not gonna give up just yet, Blonda! We are going to get you your job back _no matter what_!"

"Fat chance, you freaks!" Blonda snapped. "Poof's already taken my job, and my trailer! I have nothing left! I have nothing to live for!" At that precise moment, her wand started to ring. She growled in frustration, "Aaaand I have a husband who _WON'T STOP CALLING ME EVERY SECOND OF THE DAY_!"

"Oh yeah, that's right...you got married earlier. I remember tha—"

Blonda's wand transformed into a phone, and she pressed a button. " _LEONARD, I HAVE NO TIME TO DEAL WITH YOU RIGHT NOW_!"

"Oh, that's alright, sweetie," Leonard von Strangle's timid voice sounded over the wand's speakerphone. "I was just wondering what you wanted me to make for dinner tonight—"

" _DINNER_? _DINNER_? _I HAVE TO DEAL WITH IDIOTS RUINING MY LIFE ALL DAY, AND ALL YOU CAN THINK ABOUT IS_ _ **DINNER**_? _DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT IT'S LIKE TO BE ME_? _FURTHERMORE, DO YOU EVER EVEN THINK ABOUT ANYONE OTHER THAN YOURSELF AT ALL_?!"

"I—I'm sorry, honey, I—I just thought I'd ask—"

" _LEONARD, YOU'RE SUCH A JERK_! _GOD_ , _WHY DID I EVEN MARRY YOU_?!"

"I—I'm sorry, please—please don't be like this, I didn't mean—"

" _WHATEVER_! _I'LL DEAL WITH YOU_ _ **LATER**_!"

"Okay...uh, I love you—"

" _ **AAARRRGHHH**_!" Blonda screamed in response, and punched her wand-phone, effectively ending the call. Seething, she _POOF!_ ed up a cigarette and turned back to face Cosmo and Poof. "You two got any more _bright ideas_?!"

Cosmo and Poof had assumed a huddle, cowering together in utter terror of the woman before them. "Um, well," Cosmo spoke after a moment, raising a finger, "I do have an idea…"

" _WHAT IS IT_?"

"Why don't we...go back over to the producers, and...ask them nicely?" he suggested, and offered her a sheepish grin.

"Poof-poof!" Poof agreed nervously.

Blonda slapped her forehead. "Well, what else do I have to lose? My dignity? _Of course not_!"

"That's the...spirit?" Cosmo responded, sounding unsure.

* * *

"Innnnnnteresting," Timmy said as he casually continued to eat his popcorn.

Wanda blinked.

"'Interesting'?" She repeated. "That's all you have to say? I just dropped a bombshell on you that there's a way to kill fairies, a species known for being _immortal_ , and all you have to say is 'interesting'?!"

"What, what did you want me to say? I'm sorry, Wanda, but I play way too many violent video games and watch way too many primetime TV shows to really be fazed by anything at this point," Timmy shrugged.

"Well, I guess I should have figured," Wanda sighed. "That's fine, then. I suppose a blasé reaction is better than one where you totally freak out and renounce me as your fairy godmother."

"I mean...what? You keep saying the business is legitimate, and that you no longer keep stinky magic bottled up, and you just told me about all the super boring stuff you do around here—what's there to freak out about?"

"Okay, yes, _I'm_ harmless. But _the pixies_ are still a thing. _The pixies_ have their own garbage business. Do you understand, now, why that is so terrifying?"

"So that's what Jorgen meant when he said you guys had a war!" Timmy realized, popcorn falling out of his mouth as he spoke. "He didn't just mean a war over garbage, he meant like an"—he swallowed his mouthful—" _actual_ war! _Cool_!"

"Not cool!" Wanda groaned. "People died, Timmy! And Jorgen...Jorgen definitely thinks he knows more than he does!"

"Well, this whole thing explains why everyone in Fairy World is so scared of Big Daddy," Timmy remarked. "Also—you mean to tell me that this whole time, the pixies have had the capability of murdering fairies? Yeesh! How come no one talks about that?!"

"It doesn't come up in conversation very often," Wanda said flatly. "There's this code of silence surrounding things like that. One that I am technically breaking by telling you these things. Even though, if I _didn't_ tell you these things...you would have forcefully wished them out of me, and therefore, I would have to break the law anyway, in order to...obey a different law."

Wanda paused, discontented by the confusing statement she had just said. Timmy shrugged flippantly.

"Loopholes," he said. "Gotta love 'em!"

"I guess," Wanda frowned. "Anyway—let me clarify—pixies do not...or, rather, _should_ not currently have the ability to kill anyone. After the war ended, both parties agreed to dispose of stinky magic the ethical way. H.P. and Big Daddy signed a contract. You know pixies with their contracts. It's the one thing they take more seriously than anything else."

"I thought they took everything way too seriously."

"Good point."

"How'd the war end?"

"Well...it ended when…the pixies tried to assassinate Big Daddy himself."

"Oh, geez. And how did that go? I mean, obviously...they didn't succeed."

"No, they didn't." Wanda grimaced. "You see, Timmy, the pixies are like Stormtroopers."

"Ah. Blindly following the will of their leader without daring to question him lest they get Force-strangled to death, while at the same time not hesitating for a moment to give up their lives to protect him and the greater evil?"

Wanda blinked.

"I was just gonna say they have bad aim," she admitted.

"Oh."

* * *

" _AAAAAHHHH_!" Blonda screamed as she was hurled out of the producers' studio. She immediately jumped up and dusted herself off, cautiously surveying her figure. "You can't handle me like that! I'm a celebrity! And if any part of my prized, plastic physique has been damaged, _you're_ going to pay to have it put back into place!" she shook her fist threateningly at the shut door.

Cosmo and Poof both floated up to her. "Sooooooo, did asking for your job back work?" Cosmo asked excitedly.

Blonda glared at him. "Does it look like it worked, pleb? I got flung out of the producers' studio! And I _almost_ broke a nail!" she squealed.

"Hmmm," Cosmo frowned. Then he grinned. "Okay. I guess that mean I'll have to go talk to them!"

"What makes you think that they'll listen to _you_ when they won't even listen to _me_?!"

"They listened to me when I told them to fire you, didn't they?" Cosmo pointed out the unfortunate fact cheerfully. "Besides, I've got this thing—" he called over his shoulder, twirling in circles as he floated over to the studio door, "—it's called _blind optimism, babyyyyyy_!"

* * *

" _AAAAAHHHH_!"

Within seconds, Cosmo was thrown right out of the studio and came crashing into Blonda and Poof.

"Wow!" Cosmo said. "That really _didn't_ have any chance of working, did it?"

"I rest my case," Blonda snarled, shoving Cosmo off of her.

"Poof-poof," Poof pointed to himself, and then gestured at the studio door.

"You're right, Poof! You're a working celebrity!" Cosmo remarked. "Maybe if you go in there and tell them to give Blonda's job back, they'll actually listen to you!"

"Poof-poof!" Poof nodded, agreeing with the idea.

Blonda scoffed loudly. "How in Fairy World is the baby going to ask for my job back? He can't even talk! He just says 'poof'!"

Cosmo and Poof exchanged a puzzled glance as if this issue hadn't even occurred to either of them.

After a few seconds, Cosmo snapped his fingers. "I have another idea!"

"Fantastic," Blonda groaned.

* * *

The door of the producers' studio opened. All three producers' heads shot up in annoyance, but their harsh expressions quickly softened upon noticing who it was.

"Oh, it's just Poof!" said the portly one, sounding relieved.

"Our prodigious, rising star!" added the skinny one.

"What brings you into our studio today, magnificent wunderkind?" queried the one in the soldier hat.

The fairy baby regarded all three of them very, very seriously. He cleared his throat a couple times before opening his mouth.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen," Poof seemed to speak with a firm, yet gentle and soothing, low-pitched voice that sounded very similar to Morgan Freeman's. "Thank you for allowing me into your studio today. While I am thankful for the employment opportunity you have given me, it is with utmost respect that I must declare a permanent leave of absence."

"No!" the portly one gasped.

"But Poof, my boy! You've barely even started! What has brought upon this sudden departure?" the skinny one demanded.

"Extenuating family circumstances," Poof replied. "I apologize for any inconveniences this brings about, but I do hope you understand."

"What are we going to do?" the one in the soldier hat asked miserably. "How is _All My Biceps_ going to go on?!"

"It is up to you three to decide, but I kindly suggest," Poof continued, "that in my wake, you consider bringing back Blonda."

"Blonda?!" the three producers exclaimed and looked at each other.

"Why would we bring _her_ back?" spat the portly one.

"Did she put you up to this?" asked the skinny one.

"Negatory," Poof responded, lifting his head haughtily. "It is my personal opinion that she was taken off the show for an extraordinarily frivolous reason, and that there is no way in Fairy World _All My Biceps_ could continue its success without the effortless beauty, elegance, and sheer _perfection_ that is Blonda's presence."

Poof looked a bit perplexed, as if he wasn't sure he particularly agreed with the words that had come out of his mouth, but did his best to keep a straight face and continued to float confidently. The three producers stared at him in bewilderment.

"Poof, I think you've got it all wrong," said the one in the soldier hat. "Firing Blonda was the best decision we've made for the show in a long time."

"To be honest, we've been looking for a way to get rid of that crazy broad for years," added the portly one.

" _WHAT DID YOU JUST CALL ME, YOU FAT JERK_?!" Poof roared. He blinked a few times, seemingly shocked at his own outburst.

The three producers stared at him with surprise.

"I—I mean, ahem," Poof cleared his throat, suddenly much calmer, "...what, what makes you say that?"

"Well, Blonda is, quite simply, one of the worst possible individuals you could have on a soap opera set," the portly one continued, seeming unruffled by Poof's previous outburst. "Needy, loud, narcissistic—"

"—annoying," the skinny one added, "rude, picky, entitled—"

"—and what for?" the one in the soldier hat lifted his hands incredulously. "I mean, she's never even won a Zappy!"

"Precisely!" said the portly one. "I mean, the only reason we've been keeping her around for so long is due to a constant barrage of threats from Garbage Incorporated—"

"—which have promptly ceased, now that her father, the immovable Big Daddy, is incarcerated," the skinny one pointed out.

"Which is why the timing was so great to get rid of her," the one in the soldier hat remarked.

"She's also short-tempered, cattish," the portly one continued, lifting a finger with each adjective, "demanding, ungrateful—"

" _Okay, okay, I get the point_!" Poof yelled. He cleared his throat, and once again, in a forced, tranquil voice, continued, "But, really...I think you three are the ones clearly missing the _real_ point. Sure, Blonda is not the easiest to get along with at times...but doesn't she make up for it with her true, unabashed, and incomparable talent?"

The producers stared at him, blankly.

Several seconds of silence passed.

"Okay, fine," Poof said flatly. "Let me go at this from a different angle. As your new star, you three trust _my_ judgment, don't you?"

"Yes, of course," the skinny one said, and the two others nodded.

"I, Poof, personally think—nay, _demand_ that you give Blonda another chance," Poof asserted. "Take her back, and you three will not regret it."

The producers all exchanged glances.

"I don't know…" said the one in the soldier hat anxiously.

"We'll have to think it over," the portly one was frowning.

"We're sorry to see you go, Poof," said the skinny one.

"It's been a pleasure working with you. My short time here has been beyond compare. I just really hope you take my advice and—" a loud static noise sounded. Poof looked a bit surprised at first, and then began to clear his throat loudly, trying to drown out the static sound.

"What is that noise?" the one in the soldier hat asked, as he and the other two looked around in confusion.

"Never mind that noise," Poof said suddenly, but his voice sounded different now...goofy, with odd intonations and pauses, very similar to Christopher Walken. "I think I, uh, got a, uh, frog in my throat. Oh, no. You idiot, you, switched it to, a different voice. I did? Let me, see that. No, I got it. _Hand it over_!"

"Is everything okay, Poof?" the portly one asked with alarm.

"Everything's fine!" Poof shouted in the posh, feminine voice of Julia Child. The baby immediately put both hands over his mouth in horror.

"Just keep going! Pretend everything's normal!" the feminine voice continued—although at this point, it was clear that it wasn't coming from Poof, since he had had his hands over his mouth.

"Wait a minute…" The skinny producer rose from his seat, stormed past Poof to the window, and pushed the curtains apart.

Cosmo and Blonda had been hiding behind the curtains, huddled on the windowsill. Blonda was holding what looked like some sort of megaphone up to her face, while Cosmo fiddled with a small gadget attached to it. Blonda lowered the megaphone and looked up fearfully.

"Okay, here, I got the Fake Voice-ifier back to the Morgan Freeman voice," Cosmo said. "Take it from the top you guys! Maybe they won't notice!...Oh."

* * *

" _AAAAAHHHH_!" Cosmo and Blonda both screamed, in unison, as they were tossed out of the office yet again.

"I knew we should've gone with the Liam Neeson voice," Cosmo rubbed his head.

"Another nail!" Blonda sobbed, too depressed by her ruined manicure to get up off the floor.

Poof _POOF!_ ed beside the fallen duo with a frown. "Poof-poof," he shrugged.

"Okay," Cosmo floated up off the ground, "so that didn't work either. But that's okay. It's time for Plan B."

"You have a Plan B?" Blonda sounded exasperated.

"No!" Cosmo announced. "Not really!"

Blonda dropped her head back onto the ground in defeat.

"But we'll come up with one!" Cosmo said encouragingly. "We just have to...brainstorm!"

Blonda lifted her head again. "Brain...storm?" She repeated, sounding as if she had never heard the term before. "How do we do that?"

"...I don't know!"

* * *

"The pixies' weapon of choice was, of course, the Unicorn," Wanda said.

Timmy lifted an eyebrow. "The...animal?"

Wanda gave Timmy an odd look.

"No, the gun," Wanda frowned. "Unicorn is the name of a gun manufacturer. Unicorns don't exist, Timmy, don't be silly."

"...right."

"They'd load their Unicorns with bullets laced with toxic magic, keep them under their dress coats, and wield them sideways in true, stone-cold pixie fashion. But, the problem with holding a gun sideways is that, while you _do_ go up a level in 'looking really cool,' you go down a few in 'accuracy.'"

"Is it weird how easy it is for me to vividly picture that mental image in my head?"

"Now, the pixies may have thought—and still continue to think—that they're always one step ahead of whatever the fairies are thinking, and maybe they are," Wanda shrugged, "...but it doesn't really matter when a fairy knows how to aim a gun better than you do."

"So, what you're saying is, you _do_ go around shooting people," Timmy clarified.

"No," Wanda rubbed her head. "That's not what I'm saying."

"Uh, I'm pretty sure that's exactly what you just said. You used to go around and shoot pixies before they could shoot you. And maybe that means it was in self-defense, but still. You went around shooting people."

" _I_ didn't do anything!"

"No, no, I'm not talking about _you_ specifically, I'm talking about the Mafia," Timmy said, but then, after thinking for a second, added, "...I mean, not that I'd put it past you to shoot someone in cold blood," with a snicker.

This accusation startled the fairy. "Timmy!" she wrinkled her brow. "I would _never_ shoot someone!"

"Oh, give me a break, Wanda. You _so_ would."

"I would not!"

"Would too."

"What kind of person do you think I am?!"

"I think you're a great person, Wanda. You're very kind, and loving, and smart...but also scary." Timmy said, suddenly very serious. "Like, really scary. Like, I don't know why Cosmo presses his luck with you sometimes. You are terrifying."

Wanda put a hand to her heart, looking genuinely taken aback by the boy's accusation. "I don't mean to be terrifying," she insisted. "Do you really think I'm terrifying?"

"I _know_ you're terrifying!" Timmy said, and clapped his hands eagerly. "I wish I had a Flashback TV!"

Wanda hesitantly conjured up a large television screen beside the two. A remote control appeared in Timmy's hands, and the boy immediately began to rewind the image on the screen.

"Exhibit A," Timmy began, "That time I stole Vicky's diary."

Timmy pressed play on the television. A past version of himself and Wanda traded a flashlight back and forth as they laughed evilly.

"Now, Vicky, as you know, makes every single day of my life a living terror. She also... _once_...called you fat. So, after stealing her diary, _I_ wanted to exact revenge on her by making her look like a fool in front of her crush and her classmates. _You_ , on the other hand, wanted to _kill_ her. _Kiiiiillllllllll_ her."

He fast-forwarded to a moment where an eager Wanda held up a foaming-at-the-mouth wolverine while Timmy gave her an incredulous look.

"In various brutal ways, may I add!" Timmy remarked. "You actually wanted to kill her! For calling you fat _one time_!"

"I'm still not entirely sure why we _didn't_ let the wolverines eat her face," Wanda muttered with annoyance as she watched the past-Timmy dismiss past-Wanda's idea.

Timmy hit the fast-forward button again. "Do you remember that time my parents turned our house into a bed and breakfast, and all of my worst enemies...and Tootie...came to stay?" He asked. "Crocker, Dark Laser, Vicky, and Francis?"

Timmy hit pause. Past versions of Cosmo, Wanda, and Poof were disguised as sock monkeys.

"You didn't just try to scare away the guests like I told you to, no—"

Timmy hit play. Immediately, past-Wanda zapped past-Dark Laser with a laser beam, causing him to dissipate into a pile of soot.

"—you annihilated Dark Laser!"

"Oh, he was asking for it," Wanda responded, sounding absolutely unsympathetic.

"I had to _tell_ you to bring him back to life! Like, literally...you were just going to leave him dead!"

"Which was an odd decision on your part, if you think about it," Wanda countered. "That guy's only goal in life is to blow up Earth!"

"But even I know he's too stupid to ever actually succeed, Wanda! That doesn't mean you have to _literally zap him into a pile of ash_!"

"What point are you trying to make here, Timmy?" Wanda snapped. "That I get angry when people do things that make me angry? Because yes! That is true! So sue me!"

"Trust me," Timmy held up his hands, "the _last_ thing I want to do is sue you, or do any sort of thing that could possibly make you mad in any way! I value my life too much…" he snorted.

"You know, sometimes, you just have to show people who's boss! Perhaps, at times, I've gone a bit overboard, but it's only...because...I care...a lot...about...protecting the people I love!" Wanda finished, slowly, and then smiled, feeling confident in her defense.

Timmy gave her a slightly skeptical look. "Do you love me?"

"I love you very much, Timmy."

"Exhibit C!" the boy immediately proclaimed, lifting the remote high, "The time you sent me into a _pit of crocodiles_!"

"Okay, that's enough," Wanda took the remote from Timmy and _POOF!_ ed it and the television away.

Timmy folded his arms and regarded her smugly. "Don't deny it, Wanda! I make a good point! Anyway, before that vein in your forehead gets any bigger, let's go back to talking about pixies and failed assassination attempts! We were getting somewhere with that."

"Right," Wanda put an elbow on the desk, rested the side of her face her hand, and shut her eyes tightly. "The pixies. Okay...well, luckily for the fairies, and unluckily for the pixies, my father is an elusive man who is constantly surrounded by bodyguards. Believe it or not, there was a time when this place had reliable security that neither enemies nor a deranged mother-in-law could break through."

"So that's it?" Timmy asked. "They just couldn't hit Big Daddy, so they...gave up and made a truce? Wow. That's...really lame."

"Well, that's not exactly what happened." Wanda opened her eyes and immediately became distracted by something sitting on the desk. Timmy followed her gaze. She was looking at a framed photograph, but he couldn't see the photo, on account of it facing her and not him.

Wanda spun the photo around so he could see it. It was a family portrait. It was very dusty, but Timmy couldn't fault it too much—he was surprised the image was in as good shape as it was, considering it was clearly thousands and thousands of years old. A very young Wanda and Blonda floated in front, wearing matching dresses, holding hands, and smiling in an unsettling way that reminded Timmy less of a Francis Ford Coppola film and more of a Stanley Kubrick one. Behind them floated Big Daddy, who was cheesing in a very sly, over-confident way. He had an arm wrapped around a woman—she had swirly brown hair, was wearing a very extravagant gown, practically dripping head to toe in fine jewelry, with earrings that looked like very sparkly trashcans. Her facial expression was very similar to Big Daddy's—cheerful, cocky, and completely cavalier.

"Whoa," Timmy said and narrowed his eyes in perplexment. "How old are you in this photo?"

"I don't know," Wanda said. "Probably around your age?"

"My age?"

"Yeah, ten? Eleven? As you know, Timmy," Wanda began to explain mindlessly, "fairies age at approximately the same rate humans do up until about twenty, which is when we hit our first 'aging plateau,' at which point, for the ne-xt thousand years, we—"

" _Weird_ ," the boy remarked, lifting the frame and holding it closer to his face.

"'Weird' is right. Blonda and I look like we're on the verge of sucking out somebody's soul," Wanda chuckled at the absurdity. "I don't know why in the world Daddy has kept it on his desk all this time. If _anything_ is _truly_ 'terrifying'..."

"No, not that...well, yes, that. But _I_ was saying 'weird' because I don't think I've ever seen your mom before."

"Oh," Wanda's smile faltered. " _That_."

Timmy frowned and set the photo back on the desk, nudging it back into place gingerly. "Dare I ask what happened to her?"

Wanda seemed a bit surprised by the question. "Haven't you guessed?"

* * *

Cosmo, Blonda, and Poof still remained backstage of the soap opera set.

"Okay, so," Cosmo gestured to a whiteboard floating next to him which had three bullet points written on it. "We need to come up with ideas that, number one, don't involve garbage, B, don't involve violence, and D, don't endanger the lives of any horses. Or...other animals...or...people."

"Well _that_ leaves us with nothing!" Blonda argued.

Poof gave Blonda a dubious look.

"As we just established, _talking_ doesn't do any good! 'Being polite' doesn't do any good!" Blonda pounded a fist into her other hand's palm. "If we want to get people to do things, we have to threaten them. Or, even better, threaten their loved ones. Or their prized stallion!"

"Poof-poof," Poof _POOF!_ ed up a jockey helmet and giant axe.

" _He's_ got the right idea," Blonda pointed a thumb at the baby.

"No, no, no!" Cosmo held up the whiteboard. "Don't you people pay attention to the whiteboard?! No more horses! _Leave horses alone_!"

Poof solemnly _POOF!_ ed away the helmet and axe. Blonda groaned.

Cosmo gasped suddenly. " _I got it_!"

"I'm afraid to ask," Blonda said.

"We could fill the entire set…" Cosmo tossed the whiteboard to the side and _POOF!_ ed up a plate of lime gelatin. "... _with green Jell-O_!"

Blonda and Poof stared at him, both at a loss for words.

"Then, we could threaten them, and tell them that if they don't give you your job back, then everything will be _stuck in Jell-O forever_!"

Blonda and Poof continued to stare at him, blankly.

"Orrrrr they could just poof all of the Jell-O away themselves," Blonda retorted irritably, "because everyone here is a fairy, with fully functional wands and brains! And then I wouldn't get my job back, I'd just get kicked out forever!"

"Riiiiiight," Cosmo acknowledged. He looked very thoughtful for a few seconds. Then he _POOF!_ ed away the Jell-O and frowned. "Wellp! I'm out of ideas now."

"You know what? I just thought of something," Blonda said. "We tried talking to the producers and they kicked us out, right? Well, maybe it's because we weren't speaking the producers' language."

"Swahili?!"

"No—...what? _No_! I'm talking about money, moron! We bribe them!" Blonda rubbed her thumb against two of her fingers. "With moneeeey!"

"Oh, okay. Where do we get money?"

"In my safe!" Blonda grinned. "I'm a celebrity, so, of course, I have lots of it."

* * *

Moments later, Blonda, Cosmo, and Poof were floating inside of a large safe. However, contrary to Blonda's earlier statement, it was completely empty.

"Wooooow, it's spacious in here," Cosmo pointed out, floating around the barren room. " _ECHOOOOO_!"

" _POOF-POOOOOF_!" Poof cupped his hands around his mouth in order to make himself sound louder.

"I don't understand," Blonda ran a hand through her hair, looking horrified. "What happened to all of my money?!"

"Did'ja spend it all?" Cosmo asked.

"No! I couldn't have possibly spent it all! I've been a working soap opera actress for millennia! I make thousands per episode! And I've _never_ spent any of my money frivolously! In fact, I learned everything I know about making responsible financial decisions from my father, the most successful businessman in Fairy World!"

"You mean Big Daddy, the guy who's currently in jail for tax evasion?" Cosmo clarified innocently.

Blonda opened her mouth like she was going to say something, but then shut it, pursed her lips to one side, and looked down at the floor pensively.

Suddenly, a fairy dressed in gardening attire _POOF!_ ed into the safe beside Blonda, holding a receipt. "Mrs. von Strangle? I've finished dusting your forty-two hundred fake plants."

"Did you remember to fake-water them all and talk to them in a soothing voice?" Blonda put her hands on her hips. "They may be quote-unquote 'fake,' but I promise you that they _can_ sense a bad aura a mile away and the next thing you know, the feng shui of the entire house is thrown off!"

"Yes, ma'am," the gardener said. He held up the receipt to Blonda. "We tried running all seventy-six of your credit cards, but they've all declined."

Blonda stared at the receipt blankly, then glared at the gardener. "Well, what do you expect me to do about it, Clarence? I'm out of a job, and—as it has very recently come to my attention—I'm out of money!"

"I'm gonna need the coat," the gardener made grabby hands at her.

Blonda let out a single sob as she begrudgingly handed over her fur coat to the fairy.

"Pleasure doing business with you, Mrs. von Strangle," Clarence said as he put on the coat. "See you next Tuesday." Then, he _POOF!_ ed away.

Cosmo and Poof both floated back over to Blonda. She glanced at them tiredly.

"Do you have any money?" she sighed.

"Haven't you been paying attention, Blonda? I have a quarter, aaaaand a nickel!" Cosmo said.

"Poof-poof," Poof shook his head, pulling his empty pockets inside out.

"Back to the drawing board," Blonda lamented.

End of Chapter 6

A/N: Shout-out to "Unicorns," the fanfic I wrote back in 2010. Wooooo!  
Those _Portal_ references really aged well, didn't they, 2010!Evie?! You'd think I would've learned to stop putting so many pop culture references into my stories by now...


	7. Keeping Up With the Cosmas

A/N: HEY. HO. I'm finally done with the semester. Goodbye, school! Goodbye, no free time! Hello...fifty-hour work weeks at my summer job and still no free time! ( _high-pitched screaming is heard in the distance as my soul leaves my body_ ) Oh man, my tinnitus is acting up something fierce today. In all seriousness, I might actually be able to get more than one chapter up every month now. Won't that be something?! Anyway, here's Wonderwall. I mean, Chapter 7.

* * *

"Alright, so, we've discussed the plan," Timmy said. "Are we a go?"

"Almost," Wanda said. "We haven't talked about how you're going to keep in contact with me while you're infiltrating the pixies' headquarters. Here."

Wanda waved her wand and _POOF!_ ed up a pair of sparkly pink walkie-talkies with stars on the end of their antennae. She handed one to Timmy.

"This way, you can keep me updated with what's going on at all times, and I'll be on deck to rescue you right away if anything goes wrong."

Timmy eyed the object incredulously. "Walkie-talkies?"

"Yeah. What?"

"Nothing. Just seems kind of...archaic."

"They're retro chic," Wanda corrected. "And stylish!"

"Alright, I guess I'm ready," Looking confident, Timmy tucked the walkie-talkie into his back pocket and began to declare, "I wish I was at—"

But, before he could finish his wish, a _POOF!_ echoed behind Timmy.

Well, actually, it had been an _ANTI-POOF!_ , but whether or not _POOF!_ s and _ANTI-POOF!_ s sounded exactly the same was an incredibly heated debate between both species. "Wanda, Timothy," Anti-Cosmo greeted.

"Anti-Cosmo!" Timmy spat.

"What do you want?" Wanda asked.

The anti-fairy huffed. "What, I don't even get a 'hello'? It's just an, 'oh bugger, it's that bloke Anti-Cosmo, what is he here to badger us with now' sort of day, is it?"

Timmy and Wanda exchanged a glance.

"You didn't say hello to _us_ ," Timmy pointed out.

Anti-Cosmo blinked.

"Yes, yes, hello," he said dismissively, rolling his eyes, "Wanda, I came by to discuss plans of pixie destruction with you. It has become apparent to me that, in order for us to be successful, three key aspects must be attended to: number one, it must involve garbage. Number two, it must involve violence, and number three, I was thinking we might pursue a scheme involving H.P.'s prized stallion—"

"If you don't mind, Anti-Cosmo," Wanda interrupted, "Timmy and I are in the middle of something. Can you come back later?"

Anti-Cosmo looked offended. "Genius waits for no man! Or meddling buck-toothed juvenile!"

"Up yours, Smurf," Timmy retorted.

"Alright," Wanda said sharply, "Anti-Cosmo, I honestly doubt whatever harebrained idea you have to tell me can't wait for—"

"I do not have time to waste! I have things to do! I have dry-cleaning to pick up! I'm tired of you treating me as your inferior, Wanda! If we're going to work as a team, you need to respect me! Listen to me now, or I'll…" Anti-Cosmo grinned, eagerly slithering up to Timmy. "...I'll tell Turner your _family secret_."

Wanda gave him an impassive look. "Well, actually—" she began.

"Timothy, Timothy, Timothy," Anti-Cosmo sang slyly. "I bet you think your godmother is the most lawful, genuinely _good_ person to exist, don't you?"

Timmy leaned back in his chair as far he could away from the anti-fairy, frowning. "I mean...no. Not really. You just missed this whole 'flashback' thing that I—"

" _Eeeennhhh_ wrong!" Anti-Cosmo mimicked the sound of a buzzer, clearly not paying attention to the boy's reply. "Allow me to inform you of the truth! There are many things that she doesn't want you to know about her…'garbage business.'"

"Wait a minute," Timmy grimaced, and looked back at Wanda. "Does he know what I know?"

"I know everything there is to know about anything!" Anti-Cosmo proclaimed proudly.

"Unfortunately, yes," Wanda said, "he knows."

"Of course I know!" Anti-Cosmo reiterated.

"The only person who thinks they know, but doesn't actually _really_ know, is Jorgen," Wanda added. "And...we should probably keep it that way."

"Okay, so—I know, and you know, and Anti-Cosmo knows, and Jorgen thinks he knows, but he doesn't actually really know?" Timmy clarified. "That's confusing."

"I know," Wanda replied.

" _Enough_!" Anti-Cosmo demanded. He jerked an arm tightly around Timmy, causing the boy to drop his bag of popcorn on the floor. "Turner. Let me tell you a little story about a group of individuals that time wishes it could forget, called... _the Fairy Mafia_!"

"Yeaaah...you're a little late on that," Timmy said, promptly moving the anti-fairy's arm off of him. "I heard about it already."

"You've heard of it, have you? Well, well, well. You may have heard of it, but I'd wager that you don't know the half of it. In fact, I'd even go so far as to say the most you know about the Mafia is what you've seen in old gangster movies and HBO television shows with controversial final episodes!"

"Accurate, yes," Timmy shrugged.

"Oh, give it a rest, you overzealous goon," Wanda said. "Timmy knows about the dispute between garbage fairies and pixies."

"Does he?" Anti-Cosmo rested his hand on his face with his thumb on his cheek and his pointer finger under his lower lip, contemplating the situation with a smirk. "Well, I bet he doesn't know about the—"

"Toxic magic? Yes," Wanda said flatly.

Anti-Cosmo blinked. He lifted his eyebrows.

"You...actually told him about the—"

"Timmy's helping us. In fact, he came up with an idea that's probably better than anything you could come up with," Wanda stated.

"Helping us?" Anti-Cosmo paused. He looked over and carefully considered the boy next to him. Timmy glared back after taking a moment to retrieve his fallen popcorn.

"Timmy Turner, Fairy World's boy wonder, helping _us_? Color me impressed," the anti-fairy continued. "I didn't think it'd be so easy to turn him to the dark side so quickly, what with his _ornery_ history. Although perhaps I shouldn't be surprised, considering how malleable the brain of a boy his age is," he acknowledged. "A wealth of synapses are developing in his prefrontal cortex—which is, of course, the section that forms judgement and...controls impulse."

Timmy frowned. "My what is developing a what now?"

"This isn't the dark side, Anti-Cosmo," Wanda said, "we're just trying to stop the pixies! If anything, _you've_ joined the light side," she taunted.

"Have not!" Anti-Cosmo bared his teeth. "I resent that accusation! I'll have you know I'm very evil! All the time! World domination! It's all I want! Endless suffering! It's all I desire! Mothers with broken backs because their sons decided to step on cracks! _It's all I dream about_!"

"Remind me why we're dealing with this guy, again?" Timmy asked skeptically.

Wanda rolled her eyes. "As much as I hate to admit it, if it weren't for Anti-Cosmo's persistence, I wouldn't know about the pixies' deceit. So he is somewhat helpful, despite the fact he's also inherently evil...and insane...and screams a lot."

" _FINALLY_! _THAT'S THE ONE LOGICAL THING YOU'VE SAID THIS ENTIRE CONVERSATION, WANDA_!" Anti-Cosmo responded.

"And he did finally pay for my new manicure like he said he would, so that was nice," Wanda waggled her French-tipped fingers at the boy.

"So, what you're saying is, you trust him?" Timmy pressed.

"I wouldn't go that far. He's proven himself to be…" Wanda thought for a long moment, trying to think of a good word, "...credible?" she shrugged.

"'Credible' is an understatement! Everything I've told you so far about the pixies and their schemes has been completely correct, and it's been proven to you! You have no reason to distrust me any longer! _I HAVE FALSIFIED NOTHING_!"

"I don't understand," Timmy said, covering his ears, "aren't anti-fairies supposed to be the opposites of fairies? Why are _both_ Cosmos so loud?"

" _YOU ARE CORRECT BUT MISGUIDED, TURNER_!" Anti-Cosmo continued. "While I am scads smarter than my counterpart, the relationship between anti-fairies and fairies isn't black and white! Although it may appear to you that we are made to be wholly opposite creatures, we have more in common than we'd like to admit. _WHICH IS WHY WE'D NEVER ADMIT IT_!"

"Okay, good to know. Now can I go already?" Timmy groaned.

"No! Not yet! I've only had a brief chance to monologue, and I still have questions for you!" Anti-Cosmo cleared his throat. "Is it true what Wanda says? You've joined our cause to _eliminate the pixies_?"

Timmy shrugged feebly. "I mean, if that's what ends up happening, sure. Honestly, I just wanted an excuse to miss school today."

"Oh, happy day!" Anti-Cosmo embraced Timmy, much to the boy's chagrin. "Timothy, I can't began to express how delighted I am that you've joined us! You're like the evil godson I never had!"

"What is _up_ with you and the hugging?" Timmy coughed.

"Wait!" Anti-Cosmo released the boy. "If Timothy is going to help us win this second war, he should at least know what he's getting into."

Wanda gave him a disbelieving look. "There is no 'second war,' you maniac—"

"Turner, how much do you know about magic weapons?" Anti-Cosmo asked.

"Uhhh..." Timmy cocked his brow, "...something about unicorns?"

"Nay, Unicorns are only the beginning!" Anti-Cosmo clapped his hands. "You don't know how long I've been waiting for this moment! Turner, it's time for me to take you...on a tour of ultra-super-deadly magical war weaponry!"

"Cool!" and " _Ugh_ ," Timmy and Wanda said, respectively, in unison, before they were both transported out of the office with an _ANTI-POOF!_

* * *

Cosmo, Blonda, and Poof had left Blonda's empty safe and were now located inside of a luxurious on-set trailer, which had previously been owned by Blonda, but was now technically owned by Poof. The three of them idled, looking pensive as they tried to figure out what method of getting Blonda's job back they should try next.

"We've tried reasoning with the producers, we've tried bribing them...well," Blonda rolled her eyes, "technically, we haven't _really_ tried bribing them, because we don't have the _means_ to bribe them..."

"Not with money, at least," Cosmo said. "But you could always go the shady route and try to get your job back by seducing them with your raw sexuality!"

Poof gave his father a horrified look.

"That would've worked a couple months ago, but I'm a married woman now," Blonda replied frustratedly, not at all bothered by Cosmo's frank suggestion. "I can't just go around flaunting my goods to every guy that floats by!"

"Hmmmmm," Cosmo put a hand to his chin.

Poof shook his head and began to frantically wave his hands in front of his face in an X formation. "Poof-poof!" he declared adamantly, raising a single finger into the air in order to signify to Cosmo and Blonda that he wanted them to wait. Then, he waved his rattle and _POOF!_ ed away.

Cosmo and Blonda exchanged a glance.

"Uh, where'd he g—"

Poof reappeared a second later, wearing very scholarly-looking glasses and holding a large stack of paper. He handed one packet from the top of his stack to Cosmo and then handed another to Blonda.

"What is this?" Blonda asked, looking quizzically at the first page of the packet.

"Is this... _reading_?!" Cosmo shouted, sounding disappointed. "Awww, Poof, come on!"

"'All My Biceps' Season 537, Episode 224…'" Blonda read out loud, and blinked. "You stole the script from this week's episode?"

Poof shook his head. He _POOF!_ ed up a typewriter and began to mimic the act of typing.

"Oh...you _rewrote_ the script from this week's episode!" Blonda realized.

"Poof-poof!" Poof nodded and _POOF!_ ed away the typewriter.

"You rewrote the script so that I'm in it!"

"Poof-poof!"

"That's great!" Blonda exclaimed. "If I'm written into the script, they'll have no choice but to have me back in the show! Now we just have to swap out everyone else's script with this one!"

Poof shook his rattle. Scripts in the hands of actors and television crew members _POOF!_ ed into Poof's version, momentarily confusing quite a few of them. However, they all quickly shrugged it off.

"Ooh! Wait, this is fun! I want a role! Can I have a role, too, Poof?!" Cosmo exclaimed.

Poof shrugged. "Poof-poof." He aimed his rattle at Cosmo, _POOF!_ ing him into a plumber's outfit, complete with utility belt and plunger in hand.

"Aw, sweet! I'm the hospital plumber! I gotta practice my line." He flipped to a page in the script and cleared his throat. "'I might be able to unclog a toilet, but I'll never be able to unclog this patient's arteries!'" he shouted dramatically, hugging the plunger to his chest.

" _ALL ACTORS MUST REPORT TO STAGE A IMMEDIATELY. TAPING FOR EPISODE 224 WILL COMMENCE IN FIVE MINUTES_ ," a loudspeaker bellowed across the set.

"That's us," Blonda said. "This better work."

"And hopefully _this_ does, too!" Cosmo gestured to his plunger.

* * *

"Scene 4!" A stagehand clapped the clapboard in front of the camera. "And... _ACTION_!"

"We only have five minutes to save the patient," a shapely blue-haired nurse said, gesturing at the unconscious fairy lying on the hospital bed. "If the operation takes longer than that, then there's a good chance he'll be..."

The unconscious fairy immediately shapeshifted into a large, floating carrot.

"...a vegetable forever," the nurse finished gravely.

"Poof-poof," Poof said firmly, lowering the clipboard from his face. The fairy baby was dressed in an oversized scrubs, wearing a head mirror and a stethoscope. "Poof-poof," he held his hand out to another doctor.

The other doctor _POOF!_ ed up a scalpel and handed it to Poof. Poof held the scalpel up to the floating carrot man, looking as if he were about to make an incision...when suddenly, Poof vanished, and the scalpel fell to the floor with a clang.

All of the actors in the scene gasped.

"Oh no!" exclaimed another very attractive nurse with light green hair. "What happened to Dr. Poof?!"

"He's been kidnapped!" exclaimed the first nurse. "I found this ransom note!" She held up a paper with juxtaposed typefaces that read, **WE HAVE DR. POOF**.

"What are we going to do?!" shouted Dr. Poof Everwish. "Dr. Poof was the only doctor who could perform a surgery like this!"

With a _POOF!_ , the patient shapeshifted from a carrot into a stalk of celery.

"He doesn't have much time left!" cried an incredibly handsome brown-haired doctor.

"If only there were someone who showed up right now and knew exactly what to do!"

" _LOOK NO FURTHER_!"

All of the actors turned to the hospital room doorway and, once again, gasped.

Nurse Blonda floated in the blindingly lit doorway, one hand firmly on her hip and the other dramatically resting on the top of her swirly blonde hair.

" _Nurse Blonda_?!" everyone collectively exclaimed.

"That's right, everyone. It's me, Nurse Blonda," she announced.

"But aren't you on that mission trip in Tibecuador?!" asked one of the nurses.

"I came back early," Blonda said. "As much as those poor, impoverished children needed me...I realized I was needed here more."

Everyone in the room collectively 'oooh'ed and 'ahhh'ed.

Cosmo floated in the corner of the hospital room set—near the doorway leading to the lavatory—and leaned over to Poof, who was floating just off set. "Poof, I think it's working! Blonda's back in the show and no one suspects a thing!"

"Poof-poof," Poof replied excitedly.

"Nurse Blonda," Dr. Poof Everwish exhaled, floating over to his coworker. "I...I never thought I'd see you again."

The patient _POOF!_ ed into a broccoli.

"He's losing vitals," warned a pink-haired nurse.

"We'll have time to catch up later, but for now..." she _POOF!_ ed up pair of rubber gloves and snapped them onto her hands. "...we have a job to do."

"But you can't operate, Blonda! You're a nurse!"

"I never said I was going to operate," Blonda replied. " _You_ will."

"Me?" Poof Everwish gaped. "I'm not qualified! I can't, Blonda!"

"Of course you can! You've been a surgeon for thousands of years! I've been right beside you for all of them, and I'll stay beside you for the rest!"

"But Dr. Poof—and not me, I mean the _other_ Dr. Poof—is the best surgeon at the hospital! I don't compare to him!"

Blonda scoffed and daintily flipped her hair with the back of her hand. "There's no better surgeon than you, Sir Dr. Poof Everwish the Third."

The cue-card holder who floated beside the main camera flipped over a card that said 'KISS.'

Blonda gritted her teeth anxiously.

Cosmo latched nervously onto Poof. Poof crossed his fingers.

Poof Everwish eagerly leaned forward.

The patient transformed into a cabbage.

Blonda turned toward Poof Everwish, and...

"Cut, cut, cut, cut, _CUT_!" shrieked Jeff the director, nearly pulling out his blue hair as he dashed onto the stage. "What is going _on_ here?! Everwish! What are you doing here?"

"'Bout to score with Blonda!" he grinned.

"Oh, _please_!" Blonda had turned away from him, arms folded. "You wish!"

"I mean what are you doing _on set_? Your character disappeared from the show without a trace, and you haven't been mentioned at all this season! We can't just bring you back for one episode! That wouldn't make sense! There is an un-continuous-continuity we have to stick to on this show, people!"

"Hey, don't get mad at me," Poof Everwish shrugged, _POOF!_ ing up a copy of the script. "I was in the script."

"Let me see that!" Jeff snatched the script away from him and began flipping through it angrily. "This script is bananas! Even an insomniac twentysomething hack writer on the Internet could've written something better than this!"

"Poof-poof," Poof folded his arms, annoyed.

"'Bananas' is a compliment, Poof!" Cosmo insisted, _POOF!_ ing up a bunch of bananas. "Everybody likes bananas!"

"Oh, calm down, Jeff. As much as I loathe it, a Nurse-Blonda-Poof-Everwish-relationship rekindling is exactly what this show needs for a ratings boost, don't you think?" Blonda said.

"Blonda, get off the stage!" Jeff demanded. "I don't care what the script says! You don't work here anymore! And neither do you, Everwish! Karen, get me a tea, and my inhaler! Everybody else, take five!"

"Ehh, whatever. _All My Biceps_ was a side-gig anyway. I'm gonna go raid craft service," Poof Everwish floated away.

Blonda huffed as she begrudgingly floated off stage with the rest of the cast, slowing as she approached her green- and lavender-haired accomplices. "At least _I_ don't have to hide my botched hair plugs under a beret," she grumbled.

"Banana?" Cosmo offered Blonda, but dropped the fruit and shrieked as Jeff yanked him by the shirt away from her and Poof.

"And _you_!" Jeff snarled, eyes narrowed. "Who are you?"

"I'm the plumber!" Cosmo replied cheerfully, then looked nervous. "Aw, geez, I forgot my line! Something—about—toilets? Or was it plungers? _Urinal cakes_?! _I'M NOT CUT OUT FOR THESE STAGE LIGHTS_!" he shrieked, and began to chew anxiously on the stick of his plunger.

"You know what...this could actually work," Jeff began seriously, nodding and looking enlightened, "This...'plumber having a nervous breakdown' angle...just might be the thing that saves this show from going under. Ya got spunk, kid!"

" _I do_?! _WHERE_?!"

"No, no—I mean I like your hutzpah! You'd make a fantastic anti-hero! That's it, I've made up my mind! I'm officially promoting...what's your name?"

"Cosmo?"

"I'm officially promoting Cosmo from extra to main character!" Jeff announced.

" _ **WHAT**_?!" Blonda cried.

Cosmo gasped in excitement. "Really?! You like me? You really, really like me?" he hugged his plunger tightly, rubbing his face against the suction cup part. "I knew we'd make it big someday, Plungie! I just knew it!"

Blonda screamed and stormed off. As she did, Poof Everwish floated over, eating a giant chicken drumstick.

"What's her problem?" he asked.

* * *

Anti-Cosmo, Timmy, and Wanda had all appeared within the former's lair. Anti-Cosmo clapped his hands, and all of the candles in the dark room anti-magically lit with a _fwoomp!_

"Welcome to Anti-Cosmo's evil lair!" he introduced jovially, and gestured to a small table with a punch bowl and a plate of cookies. "Please, help yourself to some refreshments!"

Wanda regarded the table with repulsion, but Timmy walked up and grabbed a bat-shaped cookie and glanced around the lair thoughtfully. "You don't redecorate in here very often, do you, Anti-Cosmo?" Timmy commented.

Anti-Cosmo had floated over to one of his large bookcases. "I quite like the old, abandoned dungeon look. You might say it's my aesthetic."

He pulled a book off one of the shelves, dusted it off, and opened it. Inside of the book was a large red button.

"Well, since the black cat's out of the bag, so to speak," he said, "I figure we may as well begin with the integral and by far most intriguing part of this story—toxic magic!"

Anti-Cosmo pushed the button.

A small vial of glowing purple liquid apparated not too far from where Timmy and Wanda were. The vial had a skull and crossbones on the front and was gently rotating on an axis. Wanda instinctively flinched backward, while Timmy just looked confused.

"No need to fear," Anti-Cosmo floated over to the vial and reached for it. His hand fazed right through it. "This bottle is merely a hologram."

Wanda relented. "You have a hologram projector installed in the middle of your lair that only activates when you press a button hidden in a book?"

"It is an _anti-_ hologram _anti-_ projector that comes in _very_ handy in more situations than you'd expect," Anti-Cosmo defended. "Like showcasing items that I don't actually have access to. You see, the anti-fairies never established their own garbage facility, nor were they asked to participate in the Garbage War, and as a result, absolutely no anti-fairy...that I know of, at least...has ever come into possession of toxic magic."

"And _nobody_ should have it now," Wanda said. "It was banished over ten thousand years ago. And it kills people! It's terrible!"

"Thank you, Wanda, for that refresher," Anti-Cosmo said sarcastically. "Unfortunately, I was merely a boy when the War ended, so I never got to see any of the weapons I'm about to show you in action. Perhaps that is partly what has fueled my fascination with them."

"'Unfortunately'?" Wanda repeated.

Anti-Cosmo waved his wand, and the vial transformed into a pistol. "Behold," he introduced, "the Unicorn, in all its precious glory."

Timmy nodded, and thought to himself, if someone had told him he was going to see a Unicorn today, this would've been a bit underwhelming.

"The pixie's weapon of choice, and a dreadfully boring one at that," the anti-fairy continued.

"On brand," Wanda pointed out.

"Quite. The fairies, on the other hand, had more a colorful arsenal. Literally. And very, very on brand." Anti-Cosmo waved his wand.

The pistol transformed into a sparkly, rainbow-colored weapon with stars adorning the trigger.

"Dragon's Breath," he introduced. "A favorite of Wanda's family—and of mine, I'll admit."

Without warning, an enormous blast of purple fire exploded out from the object. A terrified Timmy and Wanda both leapt out of the way, despite the fact that the fire, much like the weapon itself, was only holographic.

"World's deadliest flamethrower," Anti-Cosmo explained.

"And here I was thinking that all flamethrowers were the same amount of deadly," Timmy muttered.

"Dragon's Breath doesn't shoot out just any fire, this is _toxic_ fire," Anti-Cosmo pointed at the purple flames which were still shooting out of the weapon. "Made from lighting toxic magic—naturally. Very useful for mowing down cascades of creatures at once."

"I believe it," Timmy said.

"Do we _really_ have to talk about weapons?" Wanda squinted at the Dragon's Breath that continued to shoot out blinding flames. "I mean, once you've seen one, you've seen them all, haven't you? Why can't we talk about something nice?"

Wanda waved her wand and transformed the holographic flamethrower into a holographic bluebird, singing a beautiful song. She smiled.

Anti-Cosmo glared at her. "Excuse me! This is _my_ anti-hologram anti-projector! You may _not_ magically interfere with it!"

Anti-Cosmo waved his wand.

The bird exploded. Singed holographic feathers slowly floated to the ground.

He grinned. "TM-Bomb. Toxic Magic Bomb. Trademarked. Another favorite."

Wanda huffed. Timmy snickered.

"Perhaps the next weapon is more up to your standard, Wanda." A holographic katana materialized, automatically unsheathing itself. Its blade glowed purple. "Samurai sword forged with toxic steel! Very classy."

"That _is_ pretty classy," Timmy remarked.

"Oh! What do you know about class?" Wanda snapped at Anti-Cosmo, glancing around the room disdainfully. "This place hasn't been dusted since the Neolithic Era!"

" _Aesthetic_!" Anti-Cosmo insisted. He waved his wand again, transforming the katana into five shuriken. "Since we're on a Far Eastern kick now, here's another fun one: ninja stars that spontaneously shoot out fire."

On cue, the holographic shuriken became alight with purple flames, and shot out across the room—three of them passing directly through Wanda.

"Very funny," she scowled.

"Fire really seems to be a common theme here," Timmy observed as he grabbed another cookie.

"Fire and lasers," Anti-Cosmo conjured up an image of a giant pastel-colored raygun. "This weapon is called a Blaster, and…"

He waved his wand, transforming it into another object: a metal hilt projecting a narrow, bright purple laser blade.

"...well, the name of this one slips my mind," he admitted with a thoughtful frown, "but it definitely seems suitable for multiple wars among stars."

"How original!" Wanda snarked.

Anti-Cosmo picked up his book again and pressed the button, causing the anti-holographic projector to shut off. "Ohhhhh, but I suppose you have a point, Wanda. Perhaps we are just wasting our time here when we _could_ be spending it scheming," he admitted. "After all, the true beauty of toxic magic lies in its versatility! Anything you put your mind to can be laced with it...not just weapons, not just bullets, but even...delectable pastries."

Anti-Cosmo smirked. Wanda gave him a look far dirtier than any one she had given him previously.

Timmy froze. Immediately, he began spitting out the cookie he was eating.

"You"—he desperately wiped his mouth on his sleeves—"you... _poisoned me_?! What the heck, dude?!"

Wanda's dirty look transformed to absolute horror. " _You poisoned Timmy_?!" she screamed.

Anti-Cosmo blinked, baffled. "What? No, I didn't poison Timmy! These are just regular run-of-the-dark-magic-mill sugar cookies!" the anti-fairy picked up a cookie from the platter and started eating it. "If you two had been _listening_ , you'd remember that I have absolutely no access to toxic magic. And, furthermore, even if I _did_ have access to toxic magic," he continued irritably, as cookie crumbs fell out of his mouth, "why would I waste it killing Turner? He's a human. I could just as easily kill him with _regular_ poison—"

"Then why did you start talking about lacing 'delectable pastries'?!" Timmy demanded.

"Oh, I wasn't talking about my cookies. Although I am flattered that you find them delectable. I baked them out of the badness of my heart," Anti-Cosmo said sincerely. "Rather, I was referring to the untimely demise of Wanda's mother."

Timmy only looked more bewildered. "Your mom died from...eating a pastry?" he asked.

"Zeppole, if I'm not mistaken," Anti-Cosmo looked over at Wanda.

"Daddy's favorite food," Wanda sighed.

"Wait...what?"

"A package of freshly baked zeppole was sent to the estate, addressed directly to Big Daddy, to be eaten promptly," Wanda proceeded to explain. "It was a nearly foolproof plan, to be honest. Daddy can't resist the stuff. But a compost-related emergency had sprung up at a branch of Garbage Inc. up north, so he had left just minutes before," she shook her head. "My mother found the package instead. She was never supposed to open it, but...she was hungry."

Timmy blinked. He stared at Wanda incredulously. " _That_...was the pixie's final assassination attempt? _Sending a package of zeppole to Big Daddy_?!"

"Yes."

"That's…" Timmy blinked. "...that's...absolutely ridiculous. But...also genius." he put one hand to his head in amazement, and grabbed another cookie with his other one. "I mean...free food! Of course! No one rejects free food! That's a horrifying, genius way to kill people! Man, the pixies know their stuff."

"No one's denying that," Wanda frowned thoughtfully. "Which reminds me, I hope Daddy got the zeppole I sent to Fairy World Prison a couple days ago. I know the last package I sent got to him a bit late, I hope this one got to him faster..."

"Hold up," Timmy lowered his hands, "You're telling me that Big Daddy's wife literally _died_ from eating zeppole, but he still eats it?!"

"It's his favorite food," Wanda shrugged. "Would you stop eating your favorite food just because someone _else_ died?"

"Can't argue with that," Timmy said after a moment's consideration. "Stiiiiill kinda messed up, though. All of this is, as a matter of fact. The Mafia, the…'Garbage War,' the toxic magic, the _death by zeppole_...this is all...pretty insane. And a heck of a lot to take in all at once!"

"Trust me, I think it's insane too," Wanda assured. Her watch made a quiet beep, and she glanced down at it. "It's already four o'clock. We have one hour until the pixies leave the office for the day, which means we better get a move on with your plan pretty soon, sport."

"Oh! Yes! The plan involving Turner!" Anti-Cosmo said eagerly. "What is this plan? I must know! Tell me! _Tell me now_!"

"Yeesh, okay," Timmy scoffed. "Well, Anti-Cosmo, the pixies—much like _you_ —have always wanted me on their side. So, I'm going to go to Pixie Headquarters, find H.P., tell him I'm tired of being on the fairies' side and that I want to join the pixies. Then, once they've assimilated me into the office, hopefully I'll get some insight into their next big world-domination plan, which I'll report back to Wanda," he explained, and pulled his walkie-talkie out of his pocket.

"A walkie-talkie? Well, isn't _that_ retro chic," Anti-Cosmo commented. "I have to say, I'm impressed by this plan—despite how simple it is, it just might actually work. The pixies are always eager for new recruits, and you'd certainly be one of considerable value...regardless of the fact you're really just a small, weak-minded human child with poor impulse control."

"Thanks for the encouragement," Timmy rolled his eyes. "Are we ready to get this show on the road, Wanda?"

"Absolutely," Wanda said.

"I wish I was at Pixie H.Q.!" Timmy declared.

* * *

"Oh, Cosmo!" gushed the blue-haired fairy actress who played one of the nurses. She was leaning on one of his shoulders, while the green-haired one leaned on his other, and the pink-haired one was strewn across his lap. They all gazed up at him longingly. "Say it again, will you?"

"Oh, okaaaay, if you ladies insist," Cosmo cleared his throat. "'Splenectomy'? I thought you said 'sewage line'!"

All of the women sighed dreamily.

"He has _such_ a way with words," said the green-haired one.

"And toilets!" the pink-haired one added.

"That's not _all_ I'm good at," Cosmo smirked, spinning his plunger. "I'm also good...with _floor drains_!"

All of the women gasped and began giggling uncontrollably.

A couple of excited fairies with 'I HEART COSMO' T-shirts rushed up beside Cosmo, holding markers.

"Excuse me, M-Mister Cosmo, sir?" asked one of the fairies. "C-can we get your autograph?"

"Oh, sure!" Cosmo said. "Can somebody hold my plunger?" he asked the three females.

"I wanna!"

"No, I wanna hold his plunger!"

"No! I want to!"

The three began to brawl mercilessly over the object, sending their nurse hats and wands flying.

Poof _POOF!_ ed beside Cosmo, and gave the fighting women a startled glance.

"Poof-poof," Poof said.

"Hiya Poof!" Cosmo replied. He finished scribbling his name onto the two fairies' foreheads. They squealed in delight and _POOF!_ ed away. "I can't believe I'm famous! It was so easy! All I had to do was be in the right place at the right time and know the right people, and now people freak out about everything I do, everybody wants my autograph, and the women around here are nuts!"

"Poof-poof," Poof choked out in agreement as the blue-haired woman took him into a sudden embrace.

"Ohmigodohmigodohmigod it's Poof!" she squeaked. "He is soooooooooooo cute!"

"I love him!" the pink-haired one also hugged him tightly.

"I got the plunger!" exclaimed the green-haired one.

"No fair!" shouted the other two, and lunged at her again.

"No wonder Blonda loves being famous, it's great! It's way better than being _normal_!" Cosmo said. "Where did Blonda go, anyway?"

Poof frowned and gestured toward the corner of the room, far away from the stage and the hubbub.

There, Blonda hovered, curled in the fetal position as she puffed on a cigarette, trails of mascara stained on her cheeks.

"Blonda!" Cosmo said as he and Poof flew over to her, "What are you doing all the way over here? It's dusty and smells weird! Is something wrong?"

Blonda lifted her head and looked at him in utter disbelief. "'Is...something...wrong'? ' _Is something_ _wrong_ '?! First the baby takes my job, and then _you_ take my job, and you have the _NERVE_ to ask me if _SOMETHING IS WRONG_?!"

"Poof-poof?" Poof floated closer to her, looking very concerned.

"No, no, get away from me!" she sniffled. "I guess...I guess this is what I deserve. All this time, I've just been denying and...and postponing the inevitable...but there's no use anymore." she swallowed hard and shook her head. "My time is up. Fairywood no longer wants me. Nobody does. Just as well. Nothing lasts forever. I, of all people, should've known that."

She sniveled, wiped her face on the back of her arm, and rose from the ground.

"Goodbye fame, glamor, and happiness," she exhaled, and then immediately began to sob violently. " _I'll mi-iss yo-ooou_!"

"Blonda—"

" _Don't look at me_!" Blonda put her face in her hands and flew away, crying.

Cosmo and Poof watched her leave, and then exchanged a glance with each other.

"Wow, she seems really sad," Cosmo pointed out the obvious.

"Poof-poof," Poof agreed.

Cosmo frowned. "Okay, Poof. We came here on a mission, and although fame and fortune is really great, Blonda is more important. And, actually...being famous is really hard. I've only been famous for like twenty minutes and already I feel like I need to get plastic surgery and hang out with jerks and take questionable pills at parties."

"Poof-poof," Poof nodded sympathetically.

Cosmo looked around the set and pondered for a few seconds. Then, he grinned. "I know what we have to do. It's time for us to execute...the Master Plan!"

"Poof-poof!"

"Okay, here's what we'll do..." Cosmo leaned over and began to whisper the plan to the baby.

* * *

H.P. _PING!_ ed back into his office at Pixie H.Q. A few other pixies had been hovering in the room, waiting for his return.

"How did it go, sir?" Sanderson asked.

"Everything has gone to plan," H.P. informed him, slowly moving to hover over his large desk chair. "Soon enough, we'll be rid of our worries. Or, at least...a few of them."

"Excellent to hear, sir."

"Has anything happened while I was gone?"

"Yes," Sanderson said. "It appears we have a vagrant amongst us. No need to worry, however. We've apprehended him."

The doors of the office opened. Two pixies escorted Timmy into the office and plopped him into the chair in front of the largest pixie.

"H.P.," Timmy smirked, "Just the man I wanted to see!"

"Timmy Turner," H.P. mused. "Well, isn't that serendipitous."

"The plot thickens, sir. He has a proposition," Sanderson explained. "He claims that he wants to join _our_ side."

"Does he really?" H.P. said. "Is this true, Turner? You're interested in working with us?"

"It's true," Timmy said. "I'm sick of the fairies and their stupid rules and merriment! I just wanna work 9 to 5 in an office for the rest of my life and not have to worry about dental coverage! I know you can give me what I want, H.P. I fully submit my livelihood unto you!"

"Yes," H.P. nodded. "I knew this day would come eventually. Turner, I am more than happy to welcome you to our team. As of today, I officially decree you 'office boy.'"

With a _PING!_ , Timmy's hat transformed into a pointy grey one, and his clothes turned into a grey suit with a nametag pinned onto the lapel that read **TURNER - OFFICE BOY**.

"Welcome aboard."

All of the pixies in the room began to applaud.

"Sweet," Timmy said.

"I'll have Anderson put together your work station, and Johnson will set up your insurance plan," H.P. gestured at the aforementioned pixies, who both immediately _PING!_ ed away to do as they were instructed. "Sanderson, a word in private. This will only be a minute, Turner."

Timmy nodded. The two pixies _PING!_ ed away. Timmy pulled out his walkie-talkie and adjusted the antenna. "Double-T to Alpha Nag and Blue Meanie, do you copy? Over."

" _Yes, we copy, over,_ " Wanda said after heaving a loud sigh.

" _Why does he get to pick the codenames_?" Anti-Cosmo became audible over the walkie-talkie as well.

"Where are you guys?"

" _Back at the office,_ " Wanda said. " _Where are you?_ "

"I, too, am in an office. And the plan is working! I'm in! They've totally bought my act so far," Timmy said.

" _Good job, Timmy_!"

" _Yes, yes, good job. What is your plan now?_ "

"Well, let's see. H.P. sort of mentioned something about…a few of their 'worries' being gone soon. I'm going to investigate that."

" _Good luck, Double-T. Keep us posted. And don't hesitate to call for help! If anything goes wrong, I will be THERE with a pack of wolverines!_ "

"Good to know I can always count on you, Alpha Nag," Timmy fidgeted in his seat. "Man, this business suit is way too starchy. I don't know how long I can handle this."

" _Oooh! That reminds me! I need to go pick up my dry-cleaning! Awful luck with your mission, Turner. And by 'awful luck,' I mean 'good.' Ta-ta for now!_ "

"Roger that, Blue Meanie," Timmy rolled his eyes.

A _PING!_ sounded, and Timmy quickly hid the walkie-talkie away. H.P. and Sanderson had reentered.

"Turner, we believe that your allegiance is an invaluable asset to our company. Sanderson and I have discussed it, and we're interested in involving you with our forthcoming...takeover."

"Forthcoming _business_ takeover, that is," Sanderson clarified.

"Yes, of course. Thank you for clarifying, Sanderson."

"Oh. Sure," Timmy said. "That's cool. Tell me all your plans for everything. I'm all ears."

"I'm curious," H.P. began. "Before arriving at our Headquarters, did you by any chance _inform_ your fairy godparents that you were coming here?"

"No. They don't know where I am. I don't talk to them anymore," Timmy asserted. "My godfather is off...doing something stupid, probably, and my godmother, well...who knows what she's up to, in Fairy World, running that _terrible_ garbage company, am I right?"

"You are right," Sanderson said.

"Well, Wanda won't be a problem for much longer," H.P. said.

Timmy wrinkled his brow. "What do you mean...she 'won't be a problem for much lo'—"

"In fact, with you on board and Wanda gone, our takeover should essentially be, as they say...'a cinch.' We'll give you more details soon, Turner. But for now, just know—we have high hopes for your success at Pixies Incorporated."

Timmy frowned.

"Can I get a phone?" he asked abruptly.

H.P. and Sanderson exchanged a glance.

"That can be arranged," H.P. said. "Sanderson, check the toolshed for spare phones. I'll look in the backroom."

"On it, sir," Sanderson agreed.

The two _PING!_ ed away again.

Timmy lifted his walkie-talkie. "Alpha Nag, do you copy? H.P. is _definitely_ up to some super shady stuff. He's talking to me about takeovers and...I think they're planning an attack on you or something. I'd be super careful if I were you. They said they'd give me more details soon, whatever 'soon' means…" Timmy paused. "Alpha Nag, do you copy?"

No response.

"Okay, this is not the time to go silent on me, Alpha Nag. Do—you—copy?"

Still no response.

"Wanda! Wanda, are you listening?"

Nothing.

"Okay, Wanda, seriously. If you're leaving me stranded in this cubicle heck with all these pencil-pushing, pointy-headed _freaks_ , I'm going to be really, really peeved off."

"How peeved off, exactly?" asked H.P.

Timmy spun around. Evidently, he and Sanderson had returned to the office, but had decided to apparate _behind_ the boy instead of in front of him.

"Ohhhh no," Timmy said.

"How disappointing," Sanderson glanced at the second phone he held in his hand. "And to think I was about to bestow this brand new Galaxy S9 to you, _just_ released this spring, with duel-lens camera _and_ Bixby vision."

"I suppose we'll have to save it for another office boy, Sanderson," said H.P., and haughtily peered over his glasses at the boy. "Clearly...Turner seems to prefer Apple."

"Mayday!" Timmy shouted into the walkie-talkie. "Mayday mayday mayday!"

H.P. lifted his phone. With a _PING!_ , Timmy's walkie-talkie vanished into thin air.

"What should we do with the mole, Sanderson?" H.P. asked his crony.

"I'm all for anything you suggest, sir," replied Sanderson.

"It's good to have a yes-man," H.P. said.

" _Noooooo_!" Timmy screamed.

* * *

Wanda hadn't meant to leave Timmy hanging like that. Really, she hadn't.

The fact of the matter was that, before she had had a chance to react or even realize someone else had entered the room, an arm had swung out from behind the fairy and tightly constricted itself around her throat. Another arm came into her view, its hand wielding a large butcher knife, that the person used to slap Wanda's wand—and walkie-talkie—out of her hand.

Wanda screamed a very hoarse scream, and clawed at the arm around her neck.

"Ha!" Laughed the person who had overcome her. "I fiiiinally got you right where I want you! I bet y'all thought you was gonna get away with it this entire time! Ain't it funny how things go?"

Wanda stopped clawing at the arm. The voice of the perpetrator was uncomfortably familiar...albeit with a southern twang.

"Anti-Wanda?!" she shrieked, gasping desperately for breath. "What—are you—doing? Why—are you holding me—in a—headlock? Why—do you—have—a knife? _WHO—GAVE YOU—A KNIFE_?!"

"Oh, right," Anti-Wanda pulled the knife toward herself, glancing at it with amusement. "I fur-got I was holdin' this." With an _ANTI-POOF!_ , the knife disappeared. "Me an' Anti-Blonda was huntin' Calydonian boars earlier. You know, on account'a her gettin' married 'n' everything? It's a tra-di-tion. 'Course, normally, we'd go huntin' closer to the weddin', but we had to postpone it this time on account'a the terrible case'a hiiiiiiiives I got from eatin' the weddin' lasagna," she winced and scratched her back. "But it's better late than never. 'N' let me tell ya, nineteen weddings sure do make you good at Calydonian-boar-callin'. **_SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOEEEEEE_**!"

Wanda cringed, covering her ears with her hands. "Can you let go of me?" she pleaded.

Anti-Wanda snapped back to reality, and looked at Wanda with a furrowed brow. "Well of course not!" she snorted. "'Coz I still gots'ta kill you!"

The anti-fairy woman procured a small vial filled with sparkling purple liquid from one of her pockets, and waved it in front of Wanda's face. It was identical to the one Anti-Cosmo had shown to her and Timmy in his lair earlier...except, this time, it wasn't a hologram. Wanda's blood ran cold.

"Where did you get that?" Wanda cried.

"I got it from my wonderful friend, H.P., of course!" Anti-Wanda replied, cheerfully.

"H.P.?!"

"Durn tootin'! I can't believe y'all don't like him so much, he is such a gentle-man! Why, he was the one who told me about what you've been doin' with my husband!"

Anti-Wanda tightened her chokehold on Wanda as she spoke each of the last seven words of her sentence, forcefully knocking the remaining air out of her.

"What"—Wanda gasped—"are—you—talking—about?"

"Oh, don't act like you don't know, Miss-Smarty-Pants! This entire time I thought you and Anti-Cosmo was try'na do business, but H.P. was nice enough to tell me the truth—that this whole 'business' thang was a cover so that you could have Anti-Cosmo all to yourself!"

" _What_?"

"That's right! I know you've been flirtin' with my husband! Trying to get him to leave me for you!" Anti-Wanda snarled. "Y'all think just because you're _smarter_ and _prettier_ that you can do whatever you want? Stealin' away my husband without any con-see-quen-says? You might be smart, Wanda, but that don't always mean you're _right_!"

Wanda was able to claw Anti-Wanda's arm hard enough for her to loosen her grip slightly. "I'm not trying to steal Anti-Cosmo away from you!" she shouted. "I'm not interested in him at all! In fact, he's the opposite of everything I'm interested in! That's why I'm married to his counterpart!"

"Y'all're _still_ showin' off how smart you is," Anti-Wanda scoffed. "Well, lemme tell you somethin' ya _don't_ know. H.P. _told_ me that you were gonna deny everything I was sayin'!"

Anti-Wanda twirled the vial in her hand in a carefree way—as if she weren't casually swinging around the most dangerous substance known to fairykind.

"He also told me that if I use this here sparkly purple stuff on ya, you'd die, and therefore, hereto, in conclu-shun, never be able to flirt with my husband again!" she smiled a big, crooked-tooth smile, and hugged Wanda as tight as she could—by her neck. "And I think that would work out the best for both of us!"

"But—" Wanda coughed mercilessly as her face turned purple. "You—dumb—bumpkin! Our lives are intertwined! If I die, then you die, too!"

Anti-Wanda began to laugh obnoxiously. "No way, José! H.P. told me that this is a spe-shul batch o' toxic magic, for only killing _fairies_. So only you'll die. I won't!"

"He lied to you!" Wanda shouted. "Of course you'll die! Everything he's told you is a big lie, Anti-Wanda! He's using you!"

Anti-Wanda snorted again and popped the cork out of the vial with her thumb. "An' he told me you'd say that, too."

End of Chapter 7

A/N: AND AFTER AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLLL  
YOU'RE MY WONDERWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL


	8. Just When You Thought You Were Out

" _ **GREEN JELL-O**_?!"

Jeff the director screamed in absolute terror as the lime-green substance began to manifest around him, enveloping his body.

" _IT'S EVERYWHERE_!" shrieked Poof Everwish as he was also swallowed alive by the gelatin.

Dozens of other actors and stage managers flew, screaming, as they tried to escape the clutches of the Jell-O as it magically appeared at each turn.

" _JASMIIIIIINE_!" screamed the blue- and green-haired actresses as they lamented their pink-haired friend, now completely submerged in the Jell-O and unable to move or speak.

"She was so _young_!" sobbed the green-haired one.

" _THIS IS HORRIBLE_!" gasped the skinny producer.

" _WHO DID THIS_?!" howled the portly producer as he and the other two producers attempted to wade their way through the Jell-O, reaching desperately to grab his wand, which had been swept away. " _WHO UNLEASHED JELL-O ALL OVER THE ENTIRE SET_?!"

" _WHO COULD'VE DONE SUCH A THING_?!" the one in the soldier hat hollered, fighting mercilessly against the Jell-O as it attempted to consume him.

"Oh, oh! It was us!" Cosmo said. He and Poof both waved their arms excitedly. "We did it!"

The three producers gave them a look of sheer horror.

" _WHY_?!"

"Craft service left early!" Cosmo grinned. "And besides, who doesn't like green Jell-O?"

"Poof-poof!" Poof gave a thumbs up.

" _YOU_! _TWO_! _ARE_! _**FIRED**_!" bellowed the portly producer, grabbing Cosmo and Poof by their shirt collars.

"Cool!" Cosmo said.

The producer released the two from his grasp. Then, he made a mad dash to grab his wand as the Jell-O carried it past. He successfully caught it, and waved his wand.

With a colossal _POOF!_ , all of the Jell-O disappeared. The fairies who had been submerged in the substance all fell to the ground, groaning and rubbing their heads.

" _So...much...sugar_!" Poof Everwish howled, holding his head.

"Jasmine!" the blue-haired woman grabbed the pink-haired one by the face, shaking her violently, "Speak to me! Say something! _Anything_!"

Jasmine groaned. "Hyper...gly...cemia! _Ican'tworklikethis_!" she croaked before finally passing out.

" _NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO_!" the blue- and green-haired women screamed.

All of the other fairies seemed to echo Poof Everwish and Jasmine's sentiments, rolling around on ground, moaning in pain.

"You two have ten minutes to gather your things and vacate the premises," the skinny producer spat in Cosmo's and Poof's faces, his own turning purple with rage, " _FOREVER_!"

Poof _POOF!_ ed out of his doctor's costume and Cosmo _POOF!_ ed out of his janitor's outfit. "Well, it was fun while it lasted," Cosmo said, and hugged his plunger one last time. "Goodbye, Plungie! You were the only plunger who never wronged me. I'll miss you!"

"What are we gonna do?" Jeff the director shrieked, flying up to the producers. "We got a whole day's worth of shooting left for tomorrow's episode! I can't afford to have this many actors out! _WHAT ARE WE GONNA DO_?!"

"I know!" Cosmo declared and waved his wand.

Blonda apparated in the room, still crying, with a large cheeseburger in one hand, using the other one to stuff her face with french fries from a fast food bag. Upon realizing her new surroundings, she gasped.

"What am I doing back here?!" she demanded, and then looked embarrassed and _POOF!_ ed away her food. "I mean, I wasn't _eating_ that food or anything—I—I'm a vegetarian, and, and I _care_ about the rainforest, I…" she paused, and scrunched her face up in confusion as she noticed all of the groaning, sickly fairies surrounding her. "Wait...what happened here?...Did craft service screw up again?"

"Nah! We just flooded the set with green Jell-O," Cosmo replied casually with a smirk. "And _yooou_ said it wouldn't work!"

"You...what?"

" _BLONDA_! Baby!" Jeff flew over and grabbed her by the arm. "Can you learn a thirty page script in twenty-four hours?!"

Blonda stared at him. "I've been an actress for over ten thousand years, Jeff. I could memorize a three-and-a-quarter-hour television miniseries in my sleep."

"Alright, then you're on!" Jeff _POOF!_ ed up a script and thrust it into Blonda's arms. "Welcome back to the show, baby! I'll be in my trailer! Back in ten!"

Jeff _POOF_!ed away. Blonda floated, completely confused. The three producers approached her warily.

"Well, Blonda, it's nice to have you back on the show," said the portly one.

"Glad to know we can rely on you in a crisis situation," said the skinny one.

"S-so green…" the one in the soldier hat shuddered, "and so... _so cold_ …"

"What?!" Blonda exclaimed. "Really? After all you jerks did to me and said about me? And everything you think about me? I have my job back...just like that?"

"What other choice do we have at this point?" the portly one asked.

"If we can't get a new episode out this week, we're getting cancelled," the skinny one explained.

"And everyone knows it's better to run a show into the ground than even _think_ about ending it on our own terms," the portly one added while the other two producers nodded in agreement.

"Besides...while we hate to admit it, Blonda, the constant drama in your real life has made you a fan favorite," the skinny one said. "People tune in just to see what state your mental health is in."

"It's probably better that you're back," the portly one said. "We'd hate to lose such a high percentage of our viewership."

"Now if you'll excuse us," the skinny one said as he and the portly one both grabbed the one with the soldier hat by the arms and propped him up on their shoulders, "we need to take Arnie back to the office for an insulin injection. He's a little shell-shocked."

" _Everywhere_...it was _all_ green, _all of it_ …" the one in the soldier hat whispered, his eyes glazed over.

"If you need us, we'll be in the producer's studio," the portly one announced, and he and the two other producers disappeared in a cloud of magic smoke that read, _THE SHOW MUST GO ON!_

Blonda blinked. As the dust faded in front of her, she slowly turned back around to face Cosmo and Poof.

"You...you did it," she said, mesmerized. "I got my job back! You...you two idiots actually pulled it off!"

Cosmo scoffed. "Well, of course we did!" he said boastfully, exchanging a prideful glance with Poof. "I said we would, and we did! I mean, was there really any doubt?"

"Yes!" Blonda exclaimed. "There was a lot of doubt! But you did it! Can..." she began desperately flipping through the pages of the script she was holding, "...can somebody tell me what my next line is? Because—because I don't know what to say at this point! I don't know what to say!"

"There's no script for life, Blonda," Cosmo said, and then seemed taken aback by his own words. "Ooh, that sounded deep. Write that down, Poof. We gotta let Timmy and Wanda know that I sounded deep for a sec."

"Poof-poof," Poof had already magicked up a pen and notepad.

"Thank you two so much for...everything, I mean, I...I've...I've never had two people put up with me for this long with no breaks or...legal separations," Blonda grimaced. "I have no idea how to repay you guys. I mean, I guess I could give you guys a tour of the set...but no autographs," she said sternly. "Or photos. Unless it's of my good side."

"Repay us?" Cosmo exclaimed. "You don't have to repay us. We're family, remember? And the Family does what the Family has to do...for the Family. Or something. There's like...an Italian saying. Oh, I remember: When you're here, you're Family. Wait, no, that's the old Olive Garden slogan. Why did they change the Olive Garden slogan? I never understood why they did tha—"

Cosmo's blather was cut off as Blonda unexpectedly gave him a hug.

"You're sweet, Cosmo," Blonda admitted. "I guess I understand why Wanda likes you. I just wish that I…"

Blonda stopped talking and backed away from him, suddenly forlorn. Cosmo was confused.

"You're a fairy," he said obliviously, spinning his wand in his hand. "You don't have to _make_ wishes...you can just grant your own wishes."

"No, it's not that," Blonda sounded exasperated. "Never mind."

"What?"

"It's just that...I'm...not...very...good..." Blonda said, slowly, "...at the whole...marriage thing. I've...I've been married nineteen times."

This incited a laugh from Cosmo. "Yeah, I know! Let me tell you, I have eaten a loooooot of wedding lasagna. In fact...probably too much. But I love it. I wish I had some right now. Oh, wait! I'm a fairy!" His wand sparkled, and a plate of lasagna manifested itself in thin air and fell into Cosmo's hand.

Blonda frowned. "I just...I don't know what I'm doing wrong. Every time I feel like I've found Mr. Right, it ends up blowing up in my face, and...maybe I just have terrible taste in men, which is completely possible, but...I think maybe I'm just in love with...marriage, you know. And not any of the people I've been married _to_."

Cosmo stared at her for a while, and also haphazardly shoved forkfuls of lasagna into his mouth at the same time. "Well," he swallowed his mouthful, "Maaaaaaaybe there's a difference between people who want to get married, and people who want to _be_ married." He paused, and then grinned. "I am _so deep_ today! You better be getting all of this down, Poof!"

"Poof-poof," Poof rolled his eyes.

Blonda looked off into the distance with a resigned expression. "You're right."

Cosmo stopped, mid-chew, and gave her a surprised look. "I am?" and then he hollered, " _Poof_!"

" _POOF-POOF_!" Poof retorted irritably, clearly annoyed that his father seemed to want him to jot this entire conversation down.

"I'm not very good at keeping things," Blonda said. "Not my figure. Not my job..."

"Not your calm," Cosmo snorted.

Poof lowered his notepad and gave Cosmo a 'did-you-really-just-say-that?' look.

Blonda seemed unamused, but not particularly angry. "You're not one to hold back, are you, Cosmo?"

"Nope!" Cosmo said cheerfully. "Never! I am a certified speak-before-I-think talker! And action-er. And...life choice-er."

"Well," Blonda said, "I suppose we have that in common."

The sound of a _POOF!_ echoed beside them. A deliveryfairy had appeared, holding a medium-sized package in his hands. "Delivery for Cosmo," he said.

"Oh! Me! Me! Over here!" Cosmo exclaimed. The deliveryfairy handed him a clipboard to sign, and then traded him the package and disappeared.

"Poof-poof?" Poof inquired.

"I don't know who it's from, Poof, it doesn't say," Cosmo said, and then ripped it open. He gasped when he saw what was inside.

Blonda peered over his shoulder. "Is that...sushi?"

Sure enough, what was inside Cosmo's box was a perfectly preserved platter of assorted nigiri. He removed the entrée from the box, and then looked at the tag attached to it.

"'From: The Pixies—In Regards To Timmy Turner,'" Cosmo read aloud. He grabbed his head with both hands. (The nigiri platter, being magical, as it were, floated in the air.) " _Who could this be from_?!"

Poof slapped his forehead.

"It's from the pixies, moron," Blonda said. "It's a Pixie message. It means…" she hesitated.

"The pixies...are _planning on taking us to a Japanese steakhouse_?!"

"No!" Blonda snapped. "It means Timmy Turner sleeps with the fishes."

"Is that bad?" Cosmo asked.

"It's not good."

* * *

"Peeeeeeee-yew!" Anti-Wanda hollered, wincing in disgust as the pungent odor of toxic magic overtook the room. "This stuff smells worse than a shrimpboat bathroom in the middle a' August!"

Wanda growled in frustration, still trying and failing to break free from the anti-fairy's chokehold. "You have to believe me, Anti-Wanda! Toxic magic is an end-all! If I die, then you die, there's no way around that! Anti-Cosmo will be alone, and H.P. will capitalize on his grief and enslave the anti-fairies, and, with me out of the picture, he'll figure out how to completely assimilate Fairy World Garbage Incorporated into Pixie Garbage Incorporated, and then eventually enslave the fairies! This is all part of his careful calculations! You're playing into his stratagem, Anti-Wanda!"

Anti-Wanda wrinkled her nose. "Gol-ly, you need to stop usin' so many big words!" She waved the bottle in Wanda's face. "I know how'ta fix that! Open wiiiiide!"

"Mmmm!" Wanda turned her head away from the vial, refusing to open her mouth. "Mmm-mm!"

"Aww, come on! Here comes the plane! Choo-choooo!"

An _ANTI-POOF!_ sounded before the two. Anti-Cosmo had reappeared, toting a hanger with a newly pressed coat. "Taffeta is simply the most underrated material there is, truly—" he finally lifted his head, and was overcome with surprise. "—Anti-Wanda, what are you doing here? My word, is that _toxic magic_?!"

Anti-Wanda grinned devilishly. "Sure is! I was just here 'bout to kill Wanda!"

"Why in the bloody underworld would you do that?" Anti-Cosmo exclaimed. "Are you not aware, woman, that that would kill you as well?"

"No, it won't! H.P. said it wouldn't!" Anti-Wanda huffed. "I gots 'ta kill her, Anti-Cosmo! It's the only way to win you back!"

"What are you _talking_ about, you maniac?"

" _H.P. told me_!" Anti-Wanda screamed, causing Wanda to wince in pain, "All this time you said you had business, but really, you and Wanda been spendin' a lot of time together 'coz two like each other, on account of your smartness, and the fact she's more pretty than me. I figured if I killed her, you'd appreciate my evilness, and come back to me!"

Anti-Cosmo facepalmed. "Anti-Wanda, my glorious, beloved brute, you have no idea how off-base you are! I don't care for Wanda at all. She's not attractive to me in the slightest. And she's _certainly_ not prettier than you!"

Anti-Wanda abruptly released her grasp on Wanda, and put a hand close to her mouth. "Really?" she squeaked. Meanwhile, Wanda fell to the ground, coughing violently as she crawled over to grab her wand.

"Yes, really! While she may be intelligent, do you really think I enjoy spending time with her?" Anti-Cosmo flew over to Anti-Wanda, and laced his fingers with hers. "Because I don't! It's reprehensible!"

"I think I'll see myself out," Wanda muttered, rubbing her throat.

"Well, if that's true, then why ain't you never home?" Anti-Wanda pouted. "You're always here in Fairy World now, and I never get to see you no more!"

"I'm sorry, Anti-Wanda, but I've told you, I need to help Wanda in order to prevent both of our species from being enslaved by the pixie race! It's certainly an inconvenience, but it's one that needs immediate attention. I'm sure you understand."

"Ah just don't get it," Anti-Wanda said sadly. "You and H.P. used'ta be such good friends! An' when he was tellin' me that you and Wanda was gettin' too close, he was actin' so nice and polite, ah can't believe he'd just go and take over the world world like that without includin' you!"

"You can't trust anyone in this life, Anti-Wanda," Anti-Cosmo narrowed his eyes. "I mean, except me. You should always trust me. And trust me when I say, if you want to kill her—despite the fact it would certainly solve some of our problems—it would also kill you, and that would be antithetical to my ultimate goal."

Wanda gave him an incredulous glare. "Oh, alright then! It's really nice to know everyone around here would rather have me dead!"

"You still can't say I've lied to you about anything, Wanda," Anti-Cosmo said cooly.

"And ta' think I was this close ta' pourin' this stuff down yer throat!" Anti-Wanda held up the vial with amusement as she floated back over to Wanda, took her into a chokehold again, much to the fairy's dismay, and gave her a noogie. "Ah guess it just goes to show that sometimes, if ya keep y'ur mouth shut, it keeps ya from bein' dead!"

" _Let_! _Go_! _Of_! _Me_!" Wanda groaned.

Anti-Cosmo gave Anti-Wanda a strange look. "Pouring it down her throat? Coming in contact with one drop of toxic magic is enough to turn a creature to magic dust, love. She doesn't have to _drink_ the stuff. You could've just poured it on her head!"

Anti-Wanda blinked. "Oh, really? Well! Why didn't anyone tell me that sooner?!" she slowly begin to tilt the vial over Wanda's head.

" _NONONONONONONONO_!" Wanda and Anti-Cosmo both screamed in unison.

"You can't kill her, remember?!" Anti-Cosmo yelled. "We _just_ discussed this!"

"Oh! Right!" Anti-Wanda blinked. "Sorry. I fur-got again."

"Somebody please get that stuff away from her!" Wanda demanded, once again struggling to break free of her counterpart's iron grasp.

"Oh, Anti-Wanda, you forgetful _imbecile_ , you!" Anti-Cosmo shook his head. "Your ignorance is maddening, but I wouldn't want you any other way!"

He flew over to her, and kissed her on the cheek. Anti-Wanda smiled, released Wanda again, and immediately embraced Anti-Cosmo in a tight hug.

"Awww, I love you, sugar! I'm so glad you ain't leavin' me for my counterpart, no matter how smart 'n' ugly she is!" Anti-Wanda tossed the vial toward Wanda. "Here, Wanda, since I guess I ain't killin' you today, y'all can have this."

Wanda shouted in fear, and, with a split second reflex, _POOF!_ ed up a pair of rubber gloves, and gingerly caught the container of deadly liquid as it fell toward her. "Well thanks," she said, in a slightly sarcastic way, examining the vial. "Where did you talk to H.P., Anti-Wanda? And where did he give you this?"

"He came to the castle door and rang the doorbell," Anti-Wanda replied matter-of-factly. "Then he took me to his lair!"

"You mean, his office at Pixie H.Q.," Anti-Cosmo theorized.

Anti-Wanda shook her head. "No, his _lair_! It was big, and dark, and had lotsa weapons. Not as big as yours, though, honey." She tapped her chin. "It maaay have been darker than yours, though…"

"H.P. has a lair?!" Anti-Cosmo exclaimed. " _And he never told me about it_?! That is _it_! I am _never_ inviting him to another poker game again! Anti-Wanda, do you remember where this 'lair' was? And do you think you could take us there?"

Anti-Wanda shrugged and grinned, once again barring her monstrous teeth in a goofy, excited fashion. "Ah can shure try!"

"Timmy, do you copy?! Timmy?! _Timmy_!" Wanda had retrieved her fallen walkie talkie and was desperately turning the dial, trying and failing to pick up any sort of signal. "You guys go on without me. I have to find Timmy and make sure he's okay!"

"Oooh, right, Turner. Forgot about him." Anti-Cosmo pondered for a moment. "In all likelihood, he's perished by now, but I suppose there's a small chance he's still alive. Bad luck with that, Wanda. And by 'bad luck,' I mean—"

"Yeah, yeah, I know what you mean!" Wanda snapped, lifted her wand, and was gone in a _POOF!_

"Why is she always yellin' in that craaaaaggy old man voice?" Anti-Wanda asked.

"The same reason you sing in your melodic one, dearest," Anti-Cosmo responded.

Anti-Wanda giggled as she lifted her wand. "Yer such a sweet-talker!"

In an _ANTI-POOF!_ , the two were gone.

Approximately ten and a half seconds after Wanda, Anti-Cosmo, and Anti-Wanda had left the vicinities, three entirely new people barged into Wanda's office: a hysterical Cosmo, an anxious Blonda, and a confused Poof.

"Wandaaaa!" Cosmo shouted, darting around the room. "Where are you?! I think she's gone!"

"What _happened_ in here?" Blonda asked fearfully, looking at all of the upturned chairs and the papers that had fallen askew on the floor. It definitely hadn't been this much of a mess earlier. "Was...was there a fight in here?"

"I don't know! She's not in here! No one is here! We have to find her! And Timmy!" Cosmo cried. "Where do we go? What do we do?"

"Uh, I...I-I don't know," Blonda stuttered, "I mean, the pixies sent the message, didn't they? Maybe we should go to...to Pixie World?"

"You're right! Let's go to Pixie World!"

Before the trio even had a chance to raise their respective wands and rattle, a _POOF!_ sounded behind the three.

" _STOP RIGHT THERE_! _Cosmo Julius Cosma, what in heaven's name do you think you're doing_?!"

Cosmo gasped. "Mama?!" He squeaked, and then shrieked, "Ow!"

Indeed, the older, teal-haired woman had appeared, looking as curmudgeonly and contemptuous as ever. She had immediately swooped an arm around Poof and had grabbed Cosmo by the ear. "I have been looking for you _everywhere_! You and Poof are coming with me! I am _not_ allowing you or my precious grandson to be a part of this...this _mob_!"

"Poof-poof?" Poof coughed as the wind was knocked out of him.

"Mamaaa! You're hurting me!"

"Let me tell you a story, Cosmo-lo-lo," Mama Cosma sang. "When I saw on the news that Big Daddy had been sent to jail, I thought to myself, 'Hmmph, well, serves him right.' After all, he was a very self-righteous, at times impossibly difficult man to get along with, and he was _terrible_ at keeping plans." she suddenly let out a wistful sigh. "Although, don't get me wrong, at times, he could truly be a gentleman. Not to mention...an exquisite lover," she muttered huskily.

" _AAAAAAHHHHHH_! _LA LA LA, I'M NOT LISTENING_!" Cosmo screamed and stuck fingers in his ears while, simultaneously, Blonda exclaimed, "I did _not_ need to know that!"

"In any case, I didn't think very long about the situation...until I found out that _Wanda_ was put in charge," the older woman spat. "And I knew that I simply wouldn't be able to live with myself if I allowed you and Poof to be subjected to this _lifestyle_."

"Let me go! _Aaaack_!" Cosmo's pleas for freedom only resulted in him getting yanked closer to his furious mother.

"Now, I know what you're thinking. Last time, having Wanda be in charge of the business in Fairy World was my primary goal, as it forcibly distanced her from you. However, it was only after my relationship with her father began that I found out the true, complete ins-and-outs of exactly what these 'garbage fairies' get up to and the kind of 'business' they do. Big Daddy himself told me. I remember it like it was yesterday when he confessed to me during that beautiful summer, after a raucous evening of unbridled passion—"

Cosmo began to gag uncontrollably and Blonda yelled a swear word in disgust.

"In any case, it wasn't just a verbal confession. I personally bore witness to elements of this disgusting establishment first-hand, and I can tell you for a fact that it is absolutely heinous! In fact, the entire family is just a group of filthy _criminals_!"

"Hey!" Blonda exclaimed defensively.

"Come, dearie, we're going home," Mama Cosma asserted, lifting her wand in the air.

"Noooooo!" Cosmo was finally able to push Mama Cosma's hand off of him. "I'm sorry, Mama, but I can't leave now! My family's in danger!"

"Well so is _mine_!" Mama Cosma put a hand to her chest and hugged Poof tighter, looking taken aback.

"Look, Mama, I love you, and I know things are bad, and dangerous, and you're still really bitter about that breakup, even though I _definitely_ think it was for the better, aaaaagghhh, gross," he shuddered, "but—you can take Poof, okay, you're right, he probably shouldn't be witness to half the things he's seen in the past week—or _heard_ in these past few minutes, Mama, seriously—but I'm not going, I need to find Timmy and Wanda, because I don't know where they are, and I love them both, too! And isn't that what you just did? You found me, because you loved me? So let me go find them!"

"You're going to get yourself _killed_ , Cosmo!"

"No I'm not! Listen, if you let me go now, I promise to let you come over for dinner every night for the rest of the month! That means you can insult Wanda's cooking everyday! I know that's one of your favorite things to do!"

Mama Cosma huffed, and thought over Cosmo's offer for a moment. "Oh...if you really mean it, dear, I suppose. Although, if I find out you've died, I'm going to be _very_ disappointed in you." She then paused, turned, and gave Blonda the once-over. "Who's this?"

"Oh, this is Blonda. She's Wanda's famous actress twin sister."

"Oh, of course! It's wonderful to finally be able to meet you," she greeted. "Your father was right, you really are quite the doll! And I _love_ that dress, darling. It looks absolutely marvelous on you."

"Oh!" Blonda beamed and put a hand to her heart. "Thank you!"

"I'll see you soon, my Cosmo-lo-lo," Mama Cosma said cheerfully.

"Bye Mama! Bye Poof!"

"Poof-poof!" Poof waved, and in a _POOF!_ , he and Mama Cosma were gone.

"She seems like a lovely woman," Blonda said sincerely after a moment.

"Where were we going again?" Cosmo asked.

"Pixie World?"

"Oh, right! Let's go!"

* * *

"Pardon me for the frankness of my next question, sir—but are we going to kill him or not?"

Sanderson, who was wearing a welder's mask and holding a small, lit torch, looked back at his boss for an answer. Timmy, who was chained up, immobile and unable to escape the pixies in front of him, screamed, " _AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH_!"

"No, of course we're not actually going to kill him," H.P. said. "Although it would be easy considering the frivolity of human lives, Turner is an exception. He's far more valuable alive."

"A pity," Sanderson turned off his torch and lifted his welding mask. "Especially since I already sent out the sushi."

"Listen, I have no idea what you guys are talking about, but if the plan is to keep me alive, I'm totally on board," Timmy said, "and also, whatever you guys are planning, you're not gonna get away with. You know why? Because you...guys... _stink_! You're boring, and weird, and you stink!"

"He's very inflammatory, sir," Sanderson said. "Perhaps we should implement a gag."

"But if we gag him, we can't properly interrogate him," H.P. pointed out. "I'm sure Turner has a lot of useful information about the fairies that we can use to our evil advantage."

"Good point, sir."

"You're not getting a _single_ bit of information out of me!" Timmy snapped. "I don't know if you guys have heard of it, but there's this little thing called _umberto_!"

H.P. and Sanderson exchanged a glance.

"Do you mean _omertá_ , Turner?" H.P. asked.

" _Umberto_ , _omertá_ , whatever! I knew it was an Italian word!"

"It seems that he's better at Italian than I am, sir," Sanderson admitted to H.P.

"I think he knows more than either of us are expecting," H.P. mused. "Go ahead and prod him, Sanderson. I'll go see what's taking Johnson so long with our coffee."

"Will do, sir," Sanderson floated closer to Timmy. "What secrets do you know about the fairies?"

"I know nothing!" Timmy spat.

"Don't give me that attitude, young man. I have several stacks of incoming mail that need to be sorted and I'm not afraid to force you to do so."

"You're going to make me do grueling office work if I don't talk?!" Timmy exclaimed in disbelief. "You pixies are _RELENTLESS_! And...emotionless! And... _boring_! _AndIknowIalreadysaidboringbutit'sworthrepeating_!"

"If I wanted to learn about myself, I'd stare at a mirror for an hour, and I already do that every morning," Sanderson droned. "Tell me about the fairies." he _PING!_ ed up a stack of papers. "Speak now, or I'll introduce you to the wonderful world of data processing."

" _Noooooooooooo_!"

"I found Johnson," H.P. said, returning with a coffee in hand and another pixie in tow.

"I had to replace the coffee filter," Johnson explained, handing a cup of coffee to Sanderson.

"Oh," Sanderson said. "Is this dark roast?"

"It is," Johnson said.

"Good," Sanderson said.

"Yes."

Timmy groaned loudly. "You pixies really have the most exciting conversations, don't you?"

"If you think this is exciting, you should meet Thompson," Sanderson said. "He's a riot."

"And he likes light roast," Johnson added.

"Sanderson, I don't pay you to mingle with the prisoner, I pay you to grill him," H.P. said.

"Apologies, sir." Sanderson _PING!_ ed up a laptop and turned back to Timmy. "Talk, or I'll disable Solitaire on your laptop forever."

"You pixies have no _souls_!" Timmy cried.

A sudden monstrous _**BOOM!**_ echoed throughout the room. The entire east wall of H.P.'s office had been destroyed, and the dust settled to reveal Blonda and Cosmo—who was holding a giant battering ram.

" _FREEZE, PIXIES_!" Cosmo shouted.

"Well, that seemed gratuitously destructive," Blonda commented, surveying the hole Cosmo had just created.

"That's kind of how I roll," Cosmo said to her seriously, _POOF!_ ing away the battering ram.

"I've noticed."

"Cosmo!" Timmy shouted in relief, and then looked a bit confused, "and...Blonda! Okay, sure."

"Timmy, you're here!" Cosmo flew up to the boy. "Why are you all chained up?!"

"Oh, you know, because I felt like it," Timmy rolled his eyes. "The pixies captured me, fool! I was trying to help Wanda infiltrate the pixies here at their headquarters, but our connection got cut off! I don't know what happened to her!"

"Wait, you mean Wanda's not here? And I just flew directly into Pixie H.Q.? With no backup or anything? And I can't find my wand all of a sudden?"

"I can't find mine either!" Blonda exclaimed, looking at her empty hands fearfully.

Indeed, Sanderson had acquired both of the fairies' wands, and was spinning them in his hands skillfully. He and H.P. looked at each other.

* * *

Within seconds, Cosmo and Blonda were securely trapped underneath a large, steel butterfly net.

"Iiiiiin retrospect, we probably shouldn't have just waltzed into this place like a couple of morons," Blonda recanted.

"Hey! _You're_ the one that suggested we go to Pixie World!" Cosmo pointed out.

"What do I know?! I'm an actress, not an academician!"

"I kind of like the sun in here," Sanderson commented, surveying the fallen wall of the office. "We need more windows in this building. Vitamin D is good for the bones."

H.P. _PING!_ ed the wall back up and into immaculate form. "Save your suggestions for the next architectural meeting, Sanderson."

"Yes, sir."

"You dumb, no-style-having pixies better let us out!" Blonda snapped. "I'm a celebrity! The public will throw a _fit_ if I am hurt! Not to mention my father! And everyone knows that people who mess with Big Daddy, or Big Daddy's _daughter_ , _disappear_!"

"Big Daddy continues to be locked away in prison, and besides—that threat has been empty for ten thousand years," H.P. replied. "And what makes you think we want to hurt you? You're trespassing on our property. All three of you were, and we have every right to keep you detained."

"Oh how the tables have turned," Sanderson said. "By the way, we certainly do have style. It's called 'business chic.' Look it up."

" _I_ call it, 'soooo last millennium,' lowlife!" she spat.

Sanderson turned back to H.P. "About the gag, sir…"

"Save it, Sanderson," H.P. turned his attention toward the door of his office. "We've got bigger fish to fry."

"Ah- _ha_!" Cosmo exclaimed. "So you _are_ taking us to a Japanese steakhouse! _I knew it_! Where are we going? The place on Copperfield Street? They've got good ramen!"

"Is that the place with the teppanyaki?" Sanderson asked. "I could go for some yakisoba."

"I think so," Johnson said, taking a sip of his coffee. "The yakisoba is decent at best."

"Really? I quite enjoy the yakisoba, personally," Sanderson replied.

"Have you tried their monjayaki?"

"No, I haven't."

"Good grief," Timmy groaned.

"We're never getting out of here," Blonda sighed.

"Shhhhh! No! Don't you guys see? I made a distraction!" Cosmo whispered loudly to the boy and the other fairy. "The pixies _love_ talking about food almost as much as they love eating it! This is the part where we sneak out while they're not looking!"

"That'd be a great plan if I weren't completely chained up and you guys weren't under a freaking metal butterfly net," Timmy hissed back, wriggling uncomfortably. "How exactly do you expect me to break out of these things?!"

"Well, that's easy! Just use your monstrous, inhuman, hilarious and ridiculous oversized teeth!"

Timmy glared at him. "Two things. Number one: Cosmo, you're a jerk; number two: _You think I haven't already tried that_?!"

"Will you two please get your mind out of the kitchen for one minute?" H.P. interrupted his two conversing cronies. "I'm not talking about actual fried fish. It was a figure of speech. There seems to be a situation in the hallway. Something tells me we'll soon have yet another unanticipated visitor."

"Doesn't anyone care about formalities anymore?" Sanderson lamented.

H.P.'s office door swung open. Wanda leaned against the doorframe, with what appeared to be a giant, metallic rocket launcher strapped across her back.

"Surprise, pixies!" she announced. "I bet you thought you'd seen the last of me."

"Wanda!" Timmy and Cosmo shouted.

"About time!" Blonda groaned.

"Well," H.P. said, "Wanda's still alive. That figures. I blame you, Sanderson."

"That's fair, sir."

"So nice of you to drop in, Wanda," H.P. continued, "Albeit unexpectedly. But that seems to be a running theme today."

"You have to give her credit, sir," said Sanderson, "she's the only one around here who had the decency to use the door."

"I thought fairies didn't even _use_ doors!" Timmy pointed out, sounding very irritated.

"Don't 'so nice of you to drop in' me!" Wanda snapped, floating closer to the pixie leader and his closest accomplice. "You sent my own counterpart to try to kill me?! You know how insane that is? You trusted a complete moron with the most powerful, deadly magic in the universe! Do you realize how _bad_ of an idea that was?!"

"Clearly, I do now," H.P. said.

"Oh, and don't get me started on the fact that you have toxic magic to begin with!" Wanda continued, "What happened to the agreement we had, H.P.? What about the contract we signed?!"

"Are we…" Sanderson looked at H.P. skeptically, "...are we being nagged?"

" _We_ did not sign a contract. _Big Daddy_ and I signed a contract. A contract which has since expired." H.P. explained. "I tried to reason with you, Wanda. I offered you friendship. I offered you chocolate. And still, you remained hostile and unreceptive. I had to do what I had to do."

" _KILL me_?!"

"To be fair, we began with the idea of sending you a strongly-worded letter, and it just sort of devolved from there," Sanderson said.

Wanda huffed, shoved past the two pixies, and floated over to the trapped pink-hatted boy. "Timmy, are you okay? You're not hurt or anything, are you?"

"No, I'm fine. I mean...I have an itch, but I'm fine!"

"Hi Wandaaaaa!" Cosmo waved. "I'm here too!"

"Cosmo?!" Wanda flew up to the butterfly net. "Blonda?! What are you two doing here? Wait a minute…" A look of sheer terror overcame her face. " _Where's Poof_?!"

"He's with Mama! She came to try and take me away after we came to try and find you after we got this message from the pixies that Timmy was sleeping with fishes and I was like 'whatever Timmy wants to do in his freetime is none of my business' but Blonda was like 'no it means something bad' so we went to your office and that's when she showed up and I told her that she could take Poof but leave me because I needed to find you and…oh," Cosmo grimaced, remembering the promise that he had made to his mother, "Uh, I need to tell you...about something...um, I kind of sort of told her that, if she let me go, she could—"

"While this afternoon has been thoroughly riveting, can we please hurry this up? It's almost five and Sanderson and need to prepare for our rave tonight," H.P. said, glancing at his watch.

Sanderson had _PING!_ ed a set of headphones on and a turntable in front of himself. "DJ Sands on the stage tonight. Check it, G."

"You pixies are insane! You break into my office—well, okay, you send someone else to break into my office—to try to kill me, you're holding three of my family members captive, and now you have the nerve to demand we hurry this up?!" Wanda crossed her arms. "Not only are you pixies evil and full of complicated strategy...but you're also very rude!"

"May I remind you that these three family members of yours also broke into _my_ office?"

"None of these people broke in with the intent of _killing you_!"

"And you expect me to believe that? Perhaps you and I both eluded death today. After all, you escaped the moron I sent after you. Who's to say we didn't apprehend the three morons you sent after me before any of them had a chance to strike?"

" _Hey_!" Timmy and Blonda shouted in annoyance while at the same time Cosmo yelled, " _I like monkeys_!"

"You think I would stoop that low?!" Wanda spun her rocket launcher to her front, gripping it angrily.

"I wouldn't put it past you. You are, after all, currently holding a toxic rocket launcher approximately six inches away from my face."

"Fight! Fight! Fight!" Timmy chanted.

"Blow his freaky pointy head off!" Cosmo hollered.

"If you guys are starting a new war, then I do not want to be part of it," Blonda commented flippantly, "That would _not_ look good to the Fairy Television Academy."

Wanda groaned and lowered the rocket launcher. "No! There is no war being started! I bet you wish there was," she pointed a finger at the pixies, "But there isn't! I don't want to play dirty. For goodness sake, we run garbage businesses—things are dirty enough! We are going to handle this _civilly_ : like two owners of two separate businesses coexisting and not talking to each other, ever. Listen to me, H.P. You _will_ dispose of all of the toxic magic you currently possess. You'll also scrap the contract your goons are writing. I'll get _my_ men to write up a new contract. We'll both sign it, and then we'll be done with this whole mess!" she lifted the rocket launcher again. " _Capische_?"

" _Capische_ ," H.P. sounded bored.

"Good!" Wanda turned the rocket launcher toward Sanderson. "Gimme the wands!"

"Without a musical number?" Sanderson pouted, although he did hand over the two wands begrudgingly.

"Thank you!" Wanda smiled, lowering her weapon. "Fun fact! This actually isn't a toxic rocket launcher. It's just a normal one. Unlike _some_ people, my family doesn't use our garbage business to manufacture outlawed substances!" she paused. "...Anymore!"

"Well, isn't that noble of you," H.P. said. "I'm so sorry not all of us can be so unequivocally good."

Wanda aimed the rocket launcher behind H.P. With a _**BLAM!**_ , one of the rockets had shot out and collided with the giant padlock on Timmy's body, causing the chains to fall off of the unscathed boy.

"I'm free!" Timmy jumped up in excitement. "Woohoo!"

Wanda then spun the rocket launcher around and shot it at the steel butterfly net encapsulating Cosmo and Blonda. The entire net disintegrated.

Wanda turned back to H.P. and Sanderson. " _That's_ why I brought the rocket launcher." She then _POOF!_ ed the object away.

"Oh," said H.P.

"Seems a bit excessive, but okay," said Sanderson.

"So, we're clear on our agreement?"

"Crystal clear," H.P. said.

"Good," Wanda repeated. After a few seconds, she quickly added, "But-just-to-make-sure-I-brought-some-guys-from-the-station-to-teach-you-guys-a-lesson, _OH BOYS_!"

"What?" Sanderson said.

With a _**BOOM!**_ , fourteen very angry Italian fairy men had busted into the west wall of H.P.'s office. The knocked down wall revealed multiple pixie cubicles. Several pixies jumped up in fear, appropriately yelling "aaaaaaahhhh" in their monotone voices.

" _WHICH ONE'A THESE PIXIES TRIED TA KILL YOU, WANDA_?!" demanded one of Wanda's more burly looking uncles, cracking his knuckles.

" _LET US AT 'UM_! _LET US AT 'UM_!" screamed another, foaming at the mouth.

"I'll be honest with you guys, I can't really tell any of them apart," Wanda shrugged. "I guess it's a free-for-all!"

"Well," H.P. said. "I suppose we should've seen this coming. Once again, I blame you, Sanderson."

"We need better guards at the front door, sir," Sanderson commented.

With yet another ridiculously loud _**BOOM!**_ , the south wall of H.P.'s office fell. Ten more seething men had appeared.

"We also need better infrastructure," H.P. replied.

Sanderson _PING!_ ed up a pen and notepad and began to scribble furiously. "I'll also mention that at the next architectural meeting."

All two dozen of the garbage fairies yelled simultaneously as they launched to attack the pixies. The brutal pounding was emphasized with clouds that read _**POW!**_ and _**BLAM!**_ and _**YIKES!**_ and _**MAMA MIA, THAT'S A GOOD HIT!**_

"You did it, Wanda!" Timmy exclaimed, running to his fairy godmother. "You saved me from a life of boredom and paperwork, and you beat the pixies!"

"Like, liiiiiterally, you beat the pixies," Cosmo said, also flying up to Wanda, wincing as he watched the business-inclined creatures get pummeled. "Ooh! That's gotta hurt! Right in the PDA!"

"I'm just glad you two are safe!" Wanda replied, giving them both a hug.

" _Ugh_!" Blonda flew up and yanked her wand away from Wanda, looking around the room with utter disgust, "These pixies have _no_ sense of interior design. The walls and the flooring in this place are the same color, and there aren't even any office plants! Ghastly," she shuddered and pulled a fist to her chest. She lifted her wand in her other hand and it began to sparkle. "Anyway, I need to get back to set before I get fired...again. Bye Cosmo."

"Bye Blonda!" Cosmo waved as the blonde fairy disappeared.

"Um, you're _welcome_?!" Wanda shouted with annoyance, glaring in the direction of Blonda's dissipating cloud of magic smoke.

"Oh, man, my plan could _not_ have gone worse," Timmy admitted. "I'm sorry for getting us into this mess."

"It's not your fault, Timmy," Wanda said. "You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. It turns out the pixies had been going behind our backs with their own diabolical scheme to get rid of me and overthrow the stinky magic empire."

"They tried to kill you?!" Cosmo squeaked.

Wanda nodded. "They did, but their fatal mistake was sending an idiot to do it."

Cosmo frowned. "...I mean. Sending an idiot to do something isn't...like...the _worst_ idea…"

"Sanderson," H.P. spoke up during a brief pause in the altercation.

Sanderson popped his head out from inside one of the uncles' fists. "Yes, sir?"

"Please tell me you can cancel the Uber you ordered for tonight before it charges the business credit card."

"I think it's too late, sir," Sanderson admitted.

"That's coming out of your paycheck," H.P. replied, just before getting slammed on the floor in a large **_SCOPPIO!_** cloud.

"Hey, Cosmo," Timmy folded his arms, turning to face the green-haired fairy. "I just wanted you to know...that I forgive you."

Cosmo gasped. "You do?!"

"Yeah, I do. I mean, I was really mad at you for a while, for a reason that I still think is pretty justified, but...you _did_ just come and risk your life to try to save me, and, even though you ultimately failed miserably, the fact that you would even do that counts for something. So, thanks."

"Of course I did, Timmy!" Cosmo exclaimed, abruptly taking the boy into a tight embrace. "I'd do anything to save you! I'd never leave you or anyone else I care about to the pixies or any bad guys ever ever forever never ever! _I love you_!"

"Don't make it weird, dude," Timmy scoffed and rolled his eyes as he hugged him back.

"You guys can handle it from here, can't you?" Wanda hollered to her uncles. "I think we're going to take off now!"

"Absolutely, Wanda!" one of the men shouted back cheerfully, lifting his head from the battle and waving.

"Yeah, you have a good night, Wanda!" shouted another as he held a pixie in a headlock.

"We'll see you at the office tomorrow!" another one waved.

"You do the honors, Timmy," Wanda said.

Timmy grinned. "I wish we were all back ho—"

Just then, an _ANTI-POOF!_ sounded beside Wanda. Anti-Cosmo had appeared.

The anti-fairy immediately grabbed Wanda's arm and yanked her over to him. "Wanda. New developments. I have something to show you. Urgent," he said brusquely. He gave a quick nod of acknowledgement to the two other males. "Hello and goodbye, stooges."

Before Wanda could argue, Anti-Cosmo had raised his wand, and the two disappeared in a dark blue cloud of magic smoke.

Cosmo and Timmy blinked in surprise. The former became visibly upset, while the latter merely furrowed his brow.

"Oh...kay," Timmy shrugged. "I guess it's just you and me, Cosmo. But that's cool—it means we can stay up way past bedtime playing ultra violent video games!" he exclaimed excitedly, glancing at his fairy godfather. "You game?"

Cosmo looked over at Timmy and instantly perked up. "You bet!"

* * *

It was Tuesday morning in Pixie World.

Wanda's uncles were gone, and all four walls of H.P.'s office were once again standing. The Head Pixie himself sat at his desk, hands clasped, watching expectantly as his men swarmed about, business as usual.

Thankfully, pixies, much like fairies, had notoriously fast healing powers, and he, nor any of H.P.'s other men, had had to take a sick day to recover from the previous day's incident. Although, unfortunately, he and Sanderson _had_ had to miss the previous night's rave, which was really quite a shame.

"The Dow Pixie is up fifty points today, sir," said one passing pixie as he methodically crunched numbers with his printing calculator.

"That's higher than it's been in three days," said another pixie.

"Fascinating information, Anderson. Thompson." H.P. said.

Anderson lowered his calculator. "Any word on the proceeding of the business take-over, sir?"

"Surely last night's events haven't thrown too much of a wrench in your plans," added another pixie.

"No word, Anderson. I'll let you know when I've made a further decision, Henderson."

"The fairies are a stubborn lot," commented Thompson.

"But their forgiveness will be their downfall," remarked Henderson.

"To think Wanda would be ignorant enough to let you off with a slap on the wrist," Anderson said.

"Well, more like multiple punches to the head," Thompson removed his hat and rubbed his scalp, remembering the pain of the night before.

"But still. How anticlimactic. The memory of it makes me feel as if I'm going to burst with laughter. Ha. Ha. Ha."

"Calm down, Anderson," scolded Henderson. "You're making a scene."

"Apologies. I may have had too much coffee today."

"Light roast," Henderson _PING!_ ed a mug into his hand. "Not my favorite."

"I like it," said Thompson, turning to fly out of the room.

"We know you do, Thompson," Henderson said, he and Anderson following close behind.

Before he exited the room, Anderson glanced back at his boss. "Have you taken your lunch break yet, H.P.?"

H.P. slowly glanced up at the pixie who had spoken. "No, I haven't, Anderson. I've been a bit busy trying to catch up on certain things."

"I'd advise you to take your lunch break soon. Sanderson brought his alfredo for potluck, and I'd hate for you to miss out on it." Anderson placed a hand on his stomach. "You know us pixies and our appetites."

H.P. was silent for a moment, staring at Anderson with his signature stoic expression.

"Sanderson brings in his alfredo on Wednesdays, Anderson. Today is a Tuesday."

Anderson stared back at him, equally stoic.

Then, in a grey _POOF!_ cloud, very uncharacteristic of a pixie, Anderson was reduced to pixie dust. His cell phone fell with a clang, while the dull, grey substance slowly floated to the ground.

Several other _POOF!_ s echoed throughout the cubicles and halls as other pixies all over the building began disappearing into clouds of dust.

"Sanderson," H.P. called, rising from his chair. "Sound the alarm."

End of Chapter 8

A/N: Hey guys. It's me, Evie. Remember me? yeah me neither

Remember when I said I'd be able to update way more often this summer and then proceeded to never update this story once? Yeah. I'm a dumbass. Why would I make a promise like that? That's like asking, "What could possibly go wrong?" and not expecting anything to go wrong. I played myself.

Is it a bad time to mention this chapter has been sitting approximately two lines away from being finished for...(counts on fingers)...three...months, now? Yeah. It's. It's a bad time to mention that. There's...there's probably no _good_ time to mention that...

Anyway. No more promises. I'm not good at them. I hope you enjoyed Chapter 8. If you don't remember what happened in the past seven chapters, that's alright. I don't either.

But we'll get there; you and me. We'll figure it out. Together.


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